(ouniPLi 


^.^■ 


-:^ 


Digitized  by  the  Internet  Archive 

in  2007  with  funding  from 

IVIicrosoft  Corporation 


http://www.archive.org/details/countryluckOOhabbrich 


Country  Luck 


BY 


JOHN    HABBEKTON, 

»  AUTHOR  OF 

"BRUETON'S  BAYOU,"   ETC. 


P  n  I  li  A  D  E  L  P  H I A  : 

J.  B.  LIPPINCOTT  COMPANY. 

1887. 

All  Rightt  Jteterved. 


Copyright,  1887,  by  J.  B.  Lippincott  Company. 


CONTENTS. 


OHAPTZB  PAOB 

I. — How  IT  CAKE  ABOUT 5 

II. — Family  Councils 16 

III.—"  Down  to  York" 27 

IV. — The  Tramlay  Reception 36 

V. — Not  so  Dreadful  after  all 44 

VI. — Reconstruction 62 

VII.— At  her  Side 62 

VIII. — Himself  for  Company 74 

IX. — News,  yet  no  News 80 

X. — Agnes  Dinon's  Party 88 

XI. — Drifting  from  Moorings 101 

XII. — Iron  looks  up 109 

XIIL— "While  yet  afar  off" 117 

XIV.— Going  Home 126 

XV. — The  Fatted  Calf, — but  the  Neighbors,  too  .   135 

XVI. — More  News  that  was  not  enough 142 

XVII.— Father  and  Son 149 

XVIII.— The  New  Clerk 168 

XIX.— Hopes  and  Fears 168 

XX.— An  Old  Question  repeated 178 

XXI. — Haynton  rouses  itself 186 

XXII.— Several  Green-eyed  Monsters 196 

XXIII.— E.  AW 205 

XXIV. — Iron  looks  still  higher 212 

XXV.— E.  A  W.  AGAIN ; 220 

XXVI.— Some  Minds  relieved 229 

XXVII.— Among  the  Ruins 240 

XXVIII.— "And  e'en  the  Fates  were  Smiling"  ....   249 

XXIX. — So  THEY  were  Married 267 

8 


M12005 


COUNTRY   LUCK 


CHAPTER   I. 

HOW  IT  CAME  ABOUT. 

*'  Be  sure  to  look  us  up  when  you  come  to  the  city." 
This  invitation  was  extended  with  that  delightful 
affectation  of  heartiness  that  a  man  can  assume  when 
he  believes  that  the  person  invited  will  never  avail 
himself  of  the  courtesy.  Fortunately  for  the  purpose 
of  this  story,  Master  Philip  Hayn,  whom  Mr.  Tram- 
lay  had  asked  to  call,  was  too  young  and  too  unac- 
customed to  the  usages  of  polite  society  to  regard  the 
remark  in  any  but  its  actual  sense. 

It  would  have  seemed  odd  to  any  one  knowing  the 
two  men  and  their  respective  stations  in  life.  Tram- 
lay  was  a  New  York  merchant,  well  known  and  of 
fair  standing  in  the  iron  trade ;  Hayn  was  son  of 
the  farmer  at  whose  house  the  Tramlay  family  had 
passed  the  summer.  When  the  Tramlays  determined 
to  exchange  the  late  summer  dust  of  the  country  for 
the  early  autumn  dust  of  the  city,  it  was  Philip  who 
drove  the  old-fashioned  carryall  that  transported 
them  from  the  farm  to  the  railway-station.  The 
head  of  the  merchant's  family  was  attired  like  .a 
1*  6 


6  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

well-to-do  business-man ;  Philip's  coat,  vest,  and 
trousers  were  remnants  of  three  different  suits,  none 
of  recent  cut.  The  contrast  was  made  sharper  by 
the  easy  condescension  of  the  older  man  and  the 
rather  awkward  deference  of  Philip,  and  it  moved 
Mrs.  Tramlay  to  whisper,  as  her  husband  helped  her 
aboard  the  train, — 

' '  Suppose  he  were  to  take  you  at  your  word,  Edgar  ?" 

The  merchant  shrugged  his  shoulders  slightly,  and 
replied,  "Worse  men  have  called  upon  us,  my  dear, 
without  being  made  to  feel  unwelcome." 

"  I  think  'twould  be  loads  of  fun,"  remarked  Miss 
Lucia  Tramlay. 

Then  the  three,  followed  by  smaller  members  of 
the  family,  occupied  as  many  seats  near  windows, 
and  nodded  smiling  adieus  as  the  train  started. 

Philip  returned  their  salutations,  except  the  smiles : 
somehow,  the  departure  of  all  these  people  made  him 
feel  sober.  He  followed  the  train  with  his  eyes  until 
it  was  out  of  sight ;  then  he  stepped  into  the  old 
carryall  and  drove  briskly  homeward,  declining  to 
rein  up  and  converse  with  the  several  sidewalk- 
loungers  who  manifested  a  willingness  to  converse 
about  the  departed  guests.  When  he  reached  the 
outer  edge  of  the  little  village  he  allowed  the  horses  to 
relapse  into  their  normal  gait,  which  was  a  slow  walk  ; 
he  let  the  reins  hang  loosely,  he  leaned  forward  until 
his  elbows  rested  upon  his  knees  and  his  hat-brim 
seemed  inclined  to  scrape  acquaintance  with  the 
dash-board,  then  he  slowly  repeated, — 

"  '  Be  sure  to  look  us  up  when  you  come  to  the  city.' 
You  may  be  sure  that  I  will." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  7 

The  advent  of  the  Tramlays  at  Hayn  Farm  had 
been  productive  of  new  sensations  to  all  concerned. 
The  younger  members  of  the  Tramlay  family  had  at 
first  opposed  the  plan  of  a  summer  on  a  farm  :  they 
had  spent  one  season  at  Mount  Desert,  and  part  of 
another  at  Saratoga,  and,  as  Lucia  had  been  "  out" 
a  year,  and  had  a  sister  who  expected  early  admis- 
sion to  a  metropolitan  collection  of  rosebuds,  against 
a  summer  in  the  country — the  rude,  common,  real 
country — the  protests  had  been  earnest.  But  the 
head  of  the  family  had  said  he  could  not  afford  any- 
thing better ;  trade  was  dull,  a  man  had  to  live 
within  his  income,  etc.  Besides,  their  mother's 
health  was  not  equal  to  a  summer  in  society :  they 
would  find  that  statement  a  convenient  excuse  when 
explaining  the  family  plans  to  their  friends. 

Arrived  at  Hayn  Farm,  the  objections  of  the  juve- 
nile Tramlays  quickly  disappeared.  Everything 
was  new  and  strange  ;  nothing  was  repellent,  and 
much  was  interesting  and  amusing :  what  more 
could  they  have  hoped  for  anywhere, — even  in 
Paris?  The  farm  was  good  and  well  managed,  the 
rooms  neat  and  comfortable  though  old-fashioned, 
and  the  people  intelligent,  though  Miss  Lucia  pro- 
nounced them  "awfully  funny."  The  head  of  the 
family  was  one  of  the  many  farmers  who  **  took 
boarders"  to  give  his  own  family  an  opportunity  to 
see  people  somewhat  unlike  their  own  circle  of  ac- 
quaintances,—an  opportunity  which  they  seemed  un- 
likely ever  to  find  in  any  other  way,  had  he  been  able 
to  choose.  The  senior  Hayn  would  have  put  into 
liis  spare  rooms  a  Union  Theological  Seminary  pro- 


8  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

fessor  with  his  family,  but,  as  no  such  person  re- 
sponded to  his  modest  advertisement,  he  accepted  an 
iron-merchant  and  family  instead. 

Strawberries  were  just  ripening  when  the  Tramlays 
appeared  at  Hayn  Farm,  and  the  little  Tramlays 
were  allowed  to  forage  at  will  on  the  capacious  old 
strawberry-bed ;  then  came  other  berries,  in  the 
brambles  of  which  they  tore  their  clothes  and  colored 
their  lips  for  hours  at  a  time.  Then  cherries  reddened 
on  a  dozen  old  trees  which  the  children  were  never 
reminded  had  not  been  planted  for  their  especial 
benefit.  Then  the  successive  yield  of  an  orchard  was 
theirs,  so  far  as  they  could  absorb  it.  Besides,  there 
was  a  boat  on  a  pond,  and  another  on  a  little  stream 
that  emptied  into  the  ocean  not  far  away;  and  al- 
though the  Hayn  boys  always  seemed  to  have  work 
to  do,  they  frequently  could  be  persuaded  to  accom- 
pany the  children  to  keep  them  from  drowning 
themselves. 

For  Mrs.  Tramlay,  who  really  was  an  invalid,  there 
were  long  drives  to  be  taken,  over  roads  some  of 
which  were  well  shaded  and  others  commanding 
fine  views,  and  it  was  so  restful  to  be  able  to  drive 
without  special  preparation  in  the  way  of  dress, — 
without,  too,  the  necessity  of  scrutinizing  each 
approaching  vehicle  for  fear  it  might  contain  some 
acquaintance  who  ought  to  be  recognized. 

As  for  the  head  of  the  family,  who  spent  only 
Saturdays  and  Sundays  with  his  family,  he  seemed 
to  find  congenial  society  in  the  head  of  the  house, — 
a  fact  which  at  first  gave  his  wife  great  uneasiness 
and  annoyance. 


COUNTRY  LUCK,  9 

"Edgar,"  Mrs.  Tramlay  would  say,  "you  know 
Mr.  Hayn  is  only  a  common  farmer." 

"  He's  respectable,  and  thoroughly  understands  his 
own  business,"  the  husband  replied, — "two  reasons, 
either  of  which  is  good  enough  to  make  me  like  a 
man,  unless  he  happens  to  be  disagreeable.  *  Common 
farmer' !  Why,  I'm  only  a  common  iron-merchant, 
my  dear." 

"That's  different,"  protested  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

"Is  it?  Well,  don't  try  to  explain  how,  little 
woman :  'twill  be  sure  to  give  you  a  three  days' 
headache." 

So  Tramlay  continued  to  devote  hours  to  chat  with 
his  host,  pressing  high-priced  cigars  on  him,  and 
sharing  the  farmer's  pipes  and  tobacco  in  return. 
He  found  that  Hayn,  hke  any  other  farmer  with 
brains,  had  done  some  hard  thinking  in  the  thou- 
sands of  days  when  his  hands  were  employed  at 
common  work,  and  that  his  views  of  affairs  in  gen- 
eral, outside  of  the  iron  trade,  were  at  least  as  sound 
as  Tramlay 's  own,  or  those  of  any  one  whom  Tramlay 
knew  in  the  city. 

The  one  irreconcilable  member  of  the  family  was 
the  elder  daughter,  Lucia.  She  was  the  oldest  child, 
so  she  had  her  own  way ;  she  was  pretty,  so  she  had 
always  been  petted ;  she  was  twenty,  so  she  knew 
everything  that  she  thought  worth  knowing.  She 
had  long  before  reconstructed  the  world  (in  her  own 
mind)  just  as  it  should  be,  from  the  stand-point  that 
it  ought  to  exist  solely  for  her  benefit.  Not  bad- 
tempered,  on  the  contrary,  cheerful  and  full  of  high 
spirits,  she  was  nevertheless  in  perpetual  protest 


10  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

against  everything  that  was  not  exactly  as  she  would 
have  it,  and  not  all  the  manners  that  careful  breed- 
ing could  impart  could  restrain  the  unconscious  in- 
solence peculiar  to  young  and  self-satisfied  natures. 
She  would  laugh  loudly  at  table  at  Mrs.  Hayn's  way 
of  serving  an  omelet,  tell  Mrs.  Hayn's  husband  that 
his  Sunday  coat  looked  "so  funny,"  express  her 
mind  freely,  before  the  whole  household,  at  the  horrid 
way  in  which  the  half-grown  Hayn  boys  wore  their 
hair,  and  had  no  hesitation  in  telUng  Philip  Hayn, 
two  years  her  senior,  that  when  he  came  in  from  the 
field  in  his  brown  fiannel  shirt  and  gray  felt  hat  he 
looked  like  an  utter  guy.  But  the  Hayns  were  human, 
and,  between  pity  and  admiration,  humanity  long 
ago  resolved  to  endure  anything  from  a  girl— if  she 
is  pretty. 

Slowly  the  Hayns  came  to  like  then*  boarders ; 
more  slowly,  but  just  as  surely,  the  Tramlays  learned 
to  like  their  hosts.  Mutual  respect  began  at  the 
extremes  of  both  families.  Mrs.  Tramlay,  being  a 
mother  and  a  housekeeper,  became  so  interested  in  the 
feminine  half  of  the  family's  head  that  she  ceased  to 
criticise  her  husband's  interest  in  the  old  farmer. 
The  Tramlay  children  wondered  at,  and  then  ad- 
mired, the  wisdom  and  skill  of  their  country  com- 
panions in  matters  not  understood  by  city  children. 
Last  of  all,  Lucia  found  herself  heartily  respecting 
the  farmer's  son,  and  forgetting  his  uncouth  dress 
and  his  awkwardness  of  manner  in  her  wonder  at 
his  general  courtesy,  and  his  superior  knowledge  in 
some  directions  where  she  supposed  she  had  gone  as 
far  as  possible.    She  had  gone  through  a  finishing- 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  H 

school  of  the  most  approved  New  York  type,  yet 
Philip  knew  more  of  languages  and  history  and 
science  than  she,  when  they  chanced — never  through 
her  fault — to  converse  on  such  dry  subjects  ;  he  knew 
more  flowers  than  she  had  ever  seen  in  a  florist's  shop 
in  the  city ;  and  once  when  she  had  attempted  to 
decorate  the  rather  bare  walls  of  the  farm-house 
parlor  he  corrected  her  taste  with  a  skill  which  sho 
was  obliged  to  admit.  There  was  nothing  strange 
about  it,  except  to  Lucia;  for  city  seminaries  and 
country  high  schools  use  the  same  text-books,  and 
magazines  and  newspapers  that  give  attention  to 
home  decorations  go  everywhere;  nevertheless,  it 
seemed  to  Lucia  that  she  had  discovered  a  new  order 
of  being,  and  by  the  time  she  had  been  at  Hayn  Farm 
a  month  she  found  herself  occasionally  surprised 
into  treating  Philip  almost  as  if  he  were  a  gentleman. 
Phihp's  interest  in  Lucia  was  of  much  quicker 
development.  He  had  had  no  prejudices  to  over- 
come ;  besides,  the  eye  is  more  easily  approached  and 
satisfied  than  the  intellect,  and  Lucia  had  acceptably 
filled  many  an  eye  more  exacting  than  the  young 
farmer's.  There  were  pretty  girls  in  homes  near 
Hayn  Farm,  and  more  in  the  village  near  by,  but 

none  of  them  were well,  none  were  exactly  liko 

Lucia.  PhiUp  studied  her  face ;  it  was  neither  Roman 
nor  Grecian,  and  he  was  obliged  to  confess  that  the 
proportions  of  her  features  were  not  so  good  as  those 
of  some  girls  in  the  neighborhood.  Her  figure  sug- 
gested neither  perfect  grace  nor  perfect  strength ; 
and  yet  whatever  she  did  was  gracefully  done,  and 
her  attire,  whether  plain  or  costly,  seemed  part  of 


12  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

herself, — a  peculiarity  that  he  had  never  observed 
among  girls  born  in  the  vicinity.  He  soon  discovered 
that  she  did  not  know  everything,  but  whatever  she 
did  know  she  talked  of  so  glibly  that  he  could  not 
help  enjoying  the  position  of  listener.  She  did  not 
often  show  earnestness  about  anything  that  to  him 
w^as  more  than  trifling,  but  when  she  did  go  out  of 
her  customary  mood  for  a  moment  or  two  she  was 
saintly  :  he  could  think  of  no  other  word  that  would 
do  it  justice.  He  had  not  liked  her  manner  to  his 
own  mother,  for  at  first  the  girl  treated  that  estimable 
woman  as  a  servant,  and  did  it  in  the  manner  which 
makes  most  servants  detest  most  ybung  ladies ;  but  had 
she  not  afterward,  with  her  own  tiny  fingers,  made 
a  new  Sunday  bonnet  for  Mrs.  Hayn,  and  had  not 
his  mother,  in  genuine  gratitude,  kissed  her  ?  Should 
he  bear  malice  for  what  his  mother  had  forgiven  ? 

The  young  man  merely  admired  and  respected 
Lucia :  of  that  he  was  very  sure.  Regard  more  ten- 
der he  would  have  blamed  himself  for,  first,  because 
love  implied  matrimony,  which  he  did  not  intend  to 
venture  into  until  he  had  seen  more  of  the  world 
and  perhaps  gone  to  college ;  secondly,  because  he 
did  not  imagine  that  any  such  sentiment  would  be 
reciprocated.  He  came  of  a  family  that  through 
generations  of  hard  experience  had  learned  to  count 
the  cost  of  everything,  even  the  aflfections,  hke  most 
of  the  better  country-people  in  the  older  States.  He 
had  also  an  aversion  to  marriage  between  persons  of 
different  classes.  Lucia  was  to  him  an  acquaint- 
ance,—not  even  a  friend, — whom  he  highly  esteemed ; 
that  was  alL 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  13 

His  father  thought  differently,  aud  one  day  when 
the  two  were  in  the  woodland  belonging  to  the  fiirm, 
loading  a  wagon  with  wood  to  be  stored  near  the  house 
for  winter  use,  the  old  man  said,  abruptly, — 

**  I  hope  you're  not  growin'  too  fond  of  that  young 
woman,  Phil?'* 

"No  danger,"  the  youth  answered,  promptly, 
though  as  he  raised  his  head  his  eyes  did  not  meet 
his  father's. 

"You  seem  to  know  who  I  mean,  anyhow,"  said 
the  old  man,  after  throwing  another  stick  of  wood 
upon  the  wagon. 

"Not  much  trouble  to  do  that,"  Phil  replied. 
"There's  only  one  young  woman." 

The  father  laughed  softly;  the  son  blushed  vio- 
lently.   Then  the  father  sighed. 

"That's  one  of  the  signs." 

"  What's  a  sign  ?— sign  of  what  ?"  said  Phil,  affect- 
ing wonder  not  quite  skilfully. 

"When  'there's  only  one  young  woman'  it's  a 
sign  the  young  man  who  thinks  so  is  likely  to  con- 
sider her  the  only  one  worth  thinkin'  about." 

"  Oh,  pshaw  !"  exclaimed  Phil,  attacking  the  wood- 
pile with  great  industry. 

"  Easy,  old  boy ;  'twasn't  the  wood-pile  that  said 
it.  Brace  up  your  head  ;  you've  done  nothing  to  be 
ashamed  of.  Besides,  your  old  father  can  see  through 
the  back  of  your  head,  anyhow  :  he's  been  practisin' 
at  it  ever  since  you  were  born." 

Phil  seated  himself  on  the  wood-pile,  looked  in  the 
direction  where  his  father  was  not,  and  said, — 

"  I  like  Lucia  very  much.    Slie's  a  new  face ;  she's 


14  COUNTRY  LUCK, 

different  from  the  girls  about  here.  She's  somebody 
new  to  talk  to,  and  she  can  talk  about  something  be- 
side crops,  and  cows,  and  who  is  sick,  and  last  Sun- 
day's sermon,  and  next  month's  sewing-society. 
That's  all." 

"  Yes,"  said  the  old  man.  "  It  doesn't  seem  much, 
does  it?  Enough  to  have  made  millions  of  bad 
matches,  though,  and  spoiled  millions  of  good  ones." 

Phil  was  silent  for  a  moment ;  then  he  said,  with  a 
laugh, — 

"  Father,  I  believe  you're  as  bad  as  old  Mrs.  Trip- 
sey,  whom  mother's  always  laughing  at  because  she 
thinks  a  man's  in  love  if  he  sees  her  daughter  home 
from  prayer-meeting." 

"P'r'aps  so,  my  boy, — p'r'aps,— and  maybe  as  bad 
as  you,  for  every  time  there's  a  bad  thunder-storm 
you're  afraid  the  lightning'U  strike  the  barn.  Do 
you  know  why?  It's  because  your  finest  colt  is 
there.    Do  you  see?" 

Phil  did  not  reply,  so  the  old  man  continued  : 

"I'll  make  it  clearer  to  you.  You're  my  finest 
colt ;  there's  more  lightnings  in  a  girl's  eyes  than  I 
ever  saw  in  the  sky,  you  don't  know  when  it's  going 
to  strike,  and  when  it  hits  you  you're  gone  before  you 
know  it." 

"Much  obliged.  I'll  see  to  it  that  I  keep  myself 
well  insulated,"  said  Phil. 

Nevertheless,  Phil  studied  Lucia  whenever  he  had 
opportunity,— studied  her  face  when  she  read,  her 
fingers  when  they  busied  themselves  with  fancy 
work,  her  manner  with  different  persons,  as  it 
changed  according  to  her  idea  of  the  deservings  of 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  15 

those  with  whom  she  talked.  At  church  he  regarded 
her  intently  from  the  beginning  of  the  service  to  its 
end,  analyzing  such  portions  of  prayer,  hymn,  or 
sermon  as  did  not  seem  to  meet  her  views.  He  even 
allowed  his  gaze  to  follow  her  when  she  looked  more 
than  an  instant  at  other  young  women,  in  the  igno- 
rance of  his  masculine  heart  wondering  which  of  the 
features  of  these  damsels  specially  interested  her; 
his  mother  could  have  told  him  that  Lucia  was 
merely  looking  at  bonnets  and  other  articles  of  at- 
tire, instead  of  at  their  wearers.  He  wondered  what 
she  thought;  he  told  himself  where  her  character 
was  at  fault,  and  how  it  might  be  improved.  In 
short,  he  had  ample  mental  leisure,  and  she  was  the 
newest  and  consequently  the  least  understood  of  his 
various  subjects  of  contemplation. 

It  is  impossible  to  devote  a  great  deal  of  thought 
to  any  subject  without  becoming  deeply  interested, 
even  if  it  be  unsightly,  tiresome,  and  insignificant. 
Lucia  was  none  of  these,  for  she  was  a  pretty  girl. 
It  is  equally  impossible  to  see  a  famihar  subject  of 
thought  in  the  act  of  disappearance  without  a  per- 
sonal sense  of  impending  loneliness,  and  a  wild  desire 
to  snatch  it  back  or  at  least  go  in  search  of  it.  There- 
fore Philip  Hayn  needed  not  to  be  in  love,  or  even  to 
think  himself  so,  to  be  conscious  of  a  great  vacancy 
in  his  mind  as  the  train  bore  the  Tramlay  family 
rapidly  toward  their  city  home,  and  to  determine 
that  he  would  avail  himself  of  the  invitation  which 
the  head  of  the  family  had  extended. 


CHAPTER    II. 


FAMILY  COUNCILS. 


"Husband,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn  to  her  husband  one 
night,  when  the  person  addressed  was  about  to  drop 
asleep,  "  something's  the  matter  with  Phil." 

"A  touch  of  malaria,  I  suppose,"  said  the  farmer. 
**  He's  been  gettin'  out  muck  earlier  than  usual,  and 
spreadin'  it  on  the  ridge  of  the  pasture.  The  sun's 
been  pretty  hot,  though  it  is  October,  and  hot  sun  on 
that  sort  of  stuff  always  breeds  malaria." 

*'  I  wasn't  talkin'  of  sickness,"  said  the  wife.  "  The 
dear  boy's  health  is  as  good  as  ever.  It's  his  mind 
that's  out  o'  sorts." 

A  long  soft  sigh  was  the  farmer's  only  reply  for  a 
moment.    It  was  followed  by  the  remark, — 

"  That  city  gal,  I  s'pose, — confound  her !" 

"  I  don't  see  what  you  want  her  confounded  for : 
she  hasn't  done  anythin'.    They  don't  correspond." 

**  I  should  hope  not,"  said  Hayn,  with  considerable 
vigor:  he  now  was  wide  awake,  "What  could  they 
write  about?  You  don't  s'pose  Phil  could  write 
anythin'  about  our  goin's-on  that  would  interest 
her,  do  you?" 

"No,  but  young  people  sometimes  do  find  some- 
thin'  to  exchange  letters  about.  You  and  I  didn't, 
when  we  were  boy  and  girl,  because  we  lived  within 
16 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  17 

a  stone's  throw  of  each  other,  an'  you  couldn't  keep 
away  from  our  house  after  dark ;  but  Philip  and " 

"For  goodness  sake,  old  lady,"  interrupted  the 
husband,  "don't  you  go  to  settin'  yourself  down,  at 
your  time  of  life,  by  gettin'  the  match-makin'  fever. 
There  isn't  the  slightest  chance  that " 

**  I  didn't  say  there  was  ;  but  boys  will  be  boys." 

"  It  doesn't  follow  that  they  should  be  fools,  does 
it?— not  when  they're  our  boys  ?" 

"  'Tisn't  bein'  a  fool  to  be  interested  in  a  rich  man's 
daughter.  I've  often  thought  how  different  your 
life  might  have  been  if  I'd  had  anything  besides 
myself  to  give  you  when  you  married  me." 

"  I  got  all  I  expected,  and  a  thousand  times  more 
than  I  deserved."  This  assertion  was  followed  by  a 
kiss,  which,  though  delivered  in  the  dark,  was  of 
absolutely  accurate  aim. 

"  Don't  put  it  into  Phil's  head  that  he  can  get  more 
than  a  wife  when  he  marries  ;  'twill  do  him  a  great 
deal  more  harm  than  good." 

**  I'd  like  to  see  the  dear  boy  so  fixed  that  he  won't 
have  to  work  so  hard  as  you've  had  to  do." 

"  Then  you'll  see  him  less  of  a  man  than  his  father, 
when  he  ought  to  be  better.  Isn't  that  rather  poor 
business  for  a  mother  in  Israel  to  be  in,  old  lady?" 

"Well,  anyhow,  I  believe  Phil's  heart  is  set  on 
makin'  a  trip  down  to  York." 

"  Oh,  is  that  all?  Well,  he's  been  promised  it,  for 
some  day,  this  long  while.  Something's  always 
prevented  it,  but  I  s'pose  now  would  be  as  good  a 
time  as  any. 
man  ever  had." 

b  2* 


18  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Mrs.  Hayn  probably  agreed  with  her  husband  as 
to  the  goodness  of  their  son,  but  that  was  not  the 
view  of  him  in  which  slie  was  interested  just  then. 
Said  she, — 

"  If  he  goes,  of  course  he'll  see  Aer." 

Again  the  farmer  sighed ;  then  he  said,  quite  earn- 
estly,— 

**  Let  him  see  her,  then  ;  the  sooner  he  does  it  the 
sooner  he'll  stop  thinkin'  about  her.  Bless  your  dear 
foolish  old  heart,  her  ways  and  his  are  as  far  apart  as 
Hayn  ton  and  heaven  when  there's  a  spiritual  drought 
in  this  portion  of  the  Lord's  vineyard." 

"J don't  think  the  Tramlays  are  so  much  better 
than  we,  if  they  have  got  money,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn, 
with  some  indignation.  "  I  always  did  say  that  you 
didn't  set  enough  store  by  yourself.  Mrs.  Tramlay 
is  a  nice  enough  woman,  but  I  never  could  see  how 
she  was  any  smarter  than  I ;  and  as  to  her  husband, 
I  always  noticed  that  you  generally  held  your  own 
when  the  two  of  you  were  talking  about  anything." 

"Bless  you!"  exclaimed  the  farmer,  "you  are 
rather  proud  of  your  old  husband,  aren't  you  ?  But 
Phil  will  soon  see,  with  half  an  eye,  that  it  would  be 
the  silliest  thing  in  the  world  for  him  to  fall  in  love 
with  a  girl  like  that." 

"I  can't  for  the  life  of  me  see  why,"  said  the 
mother.  "He's  just  as  good  as  she,  and  a  good  deal 
smarter,  or  I'm  no  judge." 

"  See  here,  Lou  Ann,"  said  the  farmer,  with  more 
than  a  hint  of  impatience  in  his  voice,  "you  know 
'twon't  do  either  of  'em  any  good  to  fall  in  love  if 
they  can't  marry  each  other.    An'  what  would  Phil 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  19 

have  to  support  his  wife  on  ?  Would  she  come  out 
here  an'  'tend  to  all  the  house-work  of  the  farm,  like 
you  do,  just  for  the  sake  of  havin'  Phil  for  a  hus- 
band ?  Not  unless  she's  a  fool,  even  if  Phil  is  our 
boy  an'  about  as  good  as  they  make  'em.  An'  you 
know  well  enough  that  he  couldn't  afford  to  live  in 
New  York :  he's  got  nothin'  to  do  it  on." 

"Not  now,  but  he  might  go  in  business  there,  and 
make  enough  to  live  in  style.  Other  young  fellows 
have  done  it !" 

"Yes,— in  stories,"  said  the  old  man.  "Lou  Ann, 
don't  you  kind  o'  think  that  for  a  church-member  of 
thirty  years'  standin'  you're  gettin'  mighty  worldly- 
minded?" 

"No,  I  don't,"  Mrs.  Hayn  answered.  "If  not 
to  want  my  boy  to  drudge  away  his  life  like  his 
father's  done  is  bein'  worldly,  then  I'm  goin'  to 
be  a  backslider,  an'  stay  one.  I  don't  think  'twould 
be  a  bit  bad  to  have  a  married  son  down  to  York, 
bo's  his  old  mother  could  have  some  place  to  go 
once  in  a  while  when  she's  tired  to  death  of  work 
an'  worry." 

"  Oho !"  said  the  old  man  :  "  that's  the  point  of  it, 
eh?  Well,  I  don't  mind  backslidin'  enough  myself 
to  say  the  boy  may  marry  one  of  Satan's  daughters, 
if  it'll  make  life  any  easier  for  you,  old  lady." 

"  Much  obliged,"  the  mother  replied,  "  but  I  don't 
know  as  I  care  to  do  visitin'  down  there." 

The  conversation  soon  subsided,  husband  and  wife 
dropping  into  revery  from  which  they  dropped  into 
slumber.  In  one  way  or  other,  however,  the  subject 
came  up  again.    Said  Mrs.  Hayn  one  day,  just  as  her 


20  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

husband  was  leaving  the  dinner-table  for  the  field  in 
which  he  was  cutting  and  stacking  corn, — 

'*I  do  believe  Phil's  best  coat  is  finer  stuff  than 
anything  Mr.  Tramlay  wore  when  they  were  up  here. 
I  don't  believe  what  he  wore  Sundays  could  hold  a 
candle  to  Phil's." 

**  Like  enough,"  said  the  farmer ;  "  and  yet  the  old 
man  always  looked  better  dressed.  I  think  his 
clothes  made  him  look  a  little  younger  than  Phil, 
too." 

"Now,  husband,  you  know  it  isn^t  fair  to  make  fun 
of  the  dear  boy's  clothes  in  that  way.  You  know 
well  enough  that  the  stuff  for  his  coat  was  cut  from 
the  same  bolt  of  broadcloth  as  the  minister's  best." 

"Yes,"  drawled  the  farmer  through  half  a  dozen 
inflections,  any  one  of  which  would  have  driven 
frantic  any  woman  but  his  own  wife. 

"  It's  real  mean  in  you  to  say  *  Yes*  in  that  way, 
Keuben !" 

"  'Tisn't  the  wearer  that  makes  the  man,  old  lady ; 
it's  the  tailor." 

"I'm  sure  Sarah  Tweege  cut  an'  made  Phil's  coat, 
an'  if  there's  a  better  sewin'-woman  in  this  part  of 
the  county  I'd  like  to  know  where  you  find  her." 

"Oh,  Sarah  Tweege  can  sew,  Lou  Ann,"  the  old 
man  admitted.  "  Goodness  !  I  wish  she'd  made  my 
new  harness,  instead  of  whatever  fellow  did  it. 
Mebbe,  too,  if  she'd  made  the  sacks  for  the  last  oats 
I  bought  I  wouldn't  have  lost  about  half  a  bushel  on 
the  way  home.  Yesm',  Sarah  Tweege  can  sew  a  bed- 
quilt  up  as  square  as  an  honest  man's  conscience. 
But  sewin'  ain't  tailorin'." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  21 

*' Don't  she  always  make  the  minister's  clothes?" 
demanded  Mrs.  Hayn. 

"I  never  thought  of  it  before,  but  of  course  she 
does.  I  don't  believe  anybody  else  could  do  it  in 
that  way.  Yet  the  minister  ain't  got  so  bad  a  figure, 
when  you  see  him  workin'  in  his  garden,  in  his  shirt- 
sleeves." 

**  It's  time  for  you  to  go  back  to  the  cornfield,"  sug- 
gested Mrs.  Hayn. 

"Yes,  I  reckon  'tis,"  said  the  farmer,  caressing 
what  might  have  been  nap  had  not  his  old  hat  been 
of  felt.  '"Tain't  safe  for  an  old  farmer  to  be  givin' 
his  time  an'  thought  to  pomps  an'  vanities,— like  the 
minister's  broadcloth  coat." 

"  Gtet  out !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hayn,  with  a  threaten- 
ing gesture.  The  old  man  kissed  her,  laughed,  and 
began  to  obey  her  command  ;  but  as,  like  country- 
men in  general,  he  made  his  exit  by  the  longest  pos- 
sible route,  wandering  through  the  sitting-room,  the 
hall,  the  dining-room,  and  the  kitchen,  his  wife  had 
time  to  waylay  him  at  the  door-step  and  remark, — 

*'  I  was  only  goin'  to  say  that  if  Phil  does  make 
that  trip  to  York  I  don't  see  that  he'll  need  to  buy 
new  clothes.  He's  never  wore  that  Sunday  coat  on 
other  days,  except  to  two  or  three  funerals  an'  par- 
ties. I  was  goin'  it  over  this  very  mornin',  an'  it's 
about  as  good  as  new." 

"  I  wonder  how  this  family  would  ever  have  got 
along  if  I  hadn't  got  such  a  caretali:in'  wife?"  said 
the  old  man.  **  It's  the  best  coat  in  the  United  States, 
if  you've  been  goin'  it  over." 

Phil  was  already  in  the  corn,— he  had  left  the  table 


22  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

some  minutes  before  his  father, — and  as  the  old  man 
approached,  Phil  said,— 

"Father,  don't  you  think  that  wind-break  for  the 
sheep  needs  patching  this  fall?" 

"It  generally  does,  my  son,  before  cold  weather 
sets  in." 

"  I  guess  I'll  get  at  it,  then,  as  soon  as  we  get  the 
corn  stacked." 

"What's  the  hurry?  The  middle  of  November  is 
early  enough  for  that." 

"  Oh,  when  it's  done  it'll  be  off  our  minds." 

"  See  here,  old  boy,"  said  the  father,  dropping  the 
old  ship's  cutlass  with  which  he  had  begun  to  cut 
the  corn-stalks,  "you're  doin'  all  your  work  a  month 
ahead  this  fall.  What  are  you  goin'  to  do  with  all 
your  time  when  there's  no  more  work  to  be  done?" 

"I  can't  say,  I'm  sure,"  said  Phil,  piling  an  arm- 
ful of  stalks  against  a  stack  with  more  than  ordinary 
care. 

"  Can't,  eh  ?  Then  I'll  have  to,  I  s'pose,  seein'  I'm 
your  father.  I  guess  I'll  have  to  send  you  down  to 
New  York  for  a  month,  to  look  aroun'  an'  see  some- 
thin'  of  the  world." 

Phil  turned  so  quickly  that  he  ruined  all  his  elabor- 
ate work  of  the  moment  before,  almost  burying  his 
father  under  the  toppling  stack. 

"That  went  to  the  spot,  didn't  it?"  said  the  old 
man.  "  I  mean  the  proposition, — not  the  fodder,"  he 
continued,  as  he  extricated  himself  from  the  mass 
of  corn-stalks. 

"It's  exactly  what  I've  been  wanting  to  do,"  said 
Phil,  "but " 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  23 

**  But  you  didn't  like  to  say  so,  eh?  Well,  'twasn't 
necessary  to  mention  it ;  as  I  told  you  t'other  day, 
I  can  see  through  the  back  of  your  head  any  time, 
old  boy." 

"'Twouldn't  cost  much  money,"  said  Phil.  "I 
could  go  down  on  Sol  Mantring's  sloop  for  nothing, 
some  time  when  he's  short-handed." 

"  Guess  I  can  afford  to  pay  my  oldest  son's  travel- 
lin'  expenses  when  I  send  him  out  to  see  the  world. 
You'll  go  down  to  York  by  railroad,  an'  in  the  best 
car,  too,  if  there's  any  difference." 

**  I  won't  have  to  buy  clothes,  anyhow,"  said  the 
younger  man. 

"  Yes,  you  will, — lots  of  'em.  York  ain't  Haynton, 
old  boy ;  an'  as  the  Yorkers  don't  know  enough  to  take 
their  style  from  you,  you'll  have  to  take  yours  from 
them.  I  was  there  once,  when  I  was  'long  about 
your  age :  I  didn't  have  to  buy  no  more  meetin'- 
clothes  after  that  until  I  got  married, — nigh  on  to 
ten  years." 

"If  it's  as  expensive  as  that,  I'm  not  going,"  said 
Phil,  looking  very  solemn  and  beginning  to  recon- 
struct the  demolished  stack. 

"Yes,  you  are,  sir.  I'll  have  you  understand 
you're  not  much  over  age  yet,  an'  have  got  to  mind 
your  old  father.  Now  let  that  corn  alone.  If  it 
won't  stay  down,  sit  on  it, — this  way,— see."  And, 
suiting  the  action  to  the  word,  the  old  man  sprawled 
at  ease  on  the  fallen  fodder,  dragged  his  son  down 
after  him,  and  said, — 

"  You  shall  have  a  hundred  dollars  to  start  with, 
and  more  afterward,  if  you  need  it,  as  I  know  you 


24  COUNTRY  LUCK.    ' 

will.  The  first  thing  to  do  when  you  get  to  the  city 
is  to  go  to  the  best-looking  clothing-store  you  can 
find,  and  buy  a  suit  such  as  you  see  well-dressed  men 
wearing  to  business.  Keep  your  eyes  open  on  men 
as  sharply  as  if  they  were  bosses  and  clothes  were 
their  only  points,  and  then  see  that  you  get  as  good 
clothes  as  any  of  them.  It  don't  matter  so  much 
about  the  stufi*;  but  have  your  clothes  fit  you,  an' 
cut  like  other  people's." 

**  I  don't  want  to  put  on  city  airs,"  said  Phil. 

"That's  right, — that's  right ;  but  city  clothes  and 
city  airs  aren't  any  miore  alike  than  country  airs  an' 
good  manners.  You  may  be  the  smartest,  brightest 
young  fellow  that  ever  went  to  York, — as  of  course 
you  are,  bein'  my  son,— but  folks  at  York' 11  never 
find  it  out  if  you  don't  dress  properly,— that  means, 
dress  as  they  do,  I'll  trade  watches  with  you,  to 
trade  back  after  the  trip :  mine  is  gold,  you  know. 
You'll  have  to  buy  a  decent  chain,  though." 

"I  won't  take  your  watch,  father.  I  can't ;  that's 
all  about  it." 

**  Nonsense !  of  course  you  can,  if  you  try.  It  isn't 
good  manners  to  wear  silver  watches  in  the  city." 

"But  your  watch "  Phil  could  get  no  further ; 

for  his  father's  gold  watch  was  venerated  by  the 
family  as  if  it  were  a  Mayfiower  chair  or  the  musket 
of  a  soldier  of  the  Revolution.  Once  while  old  farmer 
Hayn  was  young  Captain  Hayn,  of  the  whaling-ship 
Lou  Ann,  he  saved  the  crew  of  a  sinking  British 
bark.  Unlike  modern  ship-captains  (who  do  not  own 
their  vessels),  he  went  in  the  boat  with  the  rescuing- 
party  instead  of  merely  sending  it  out,  and  he 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  25 

suffered  so  much  through  exposure,  strain,  and  the 
fear  of  the  death  which  seemed  impending  that  he 
abandoned  the  sea  as  soon  thereafter  as  possible. 
Nevertheless  he  thought  only  of  the  work  before 
him,  until  he  had  rescued  the  imperilled  crew  and 
stowed  them  safely  in  his  own  ship.  The  circum- 
stances of  the  rescue  were  so  unusual  that  they 
formed  the  subject  of  long  columns  in  foreign  news- 
papers ;  and  in  a  few  months  Captain  Hayn  received 
through  the  State  Department  at  Washington  a  gold 
watch,  with  sundry  complimentary  papers  from  the 
Britisli  Admiralty.  The  young  seaman  never  talked 
of  either ;  his  neighbors  first  learned  of  the  presenta- 
tion by  conning  their  favorite  weekly  newspapers ; 
nevertheless  the  papers  were  framed  and  hung  in 
the  young  captain's  bedchamber,  and,  however  care- 
lessly he  dressed  afterward,  nobody  ever  saw  him 
when  he  had  not  the  watch  in  his  pocket. 

**  Father,"  said  Phil,  after  some  moments  spent  in 
silence  and  facial  contortion,  "I  can't  take  your 
wat<jh,  even  for  a  little  while.  You've  always  worn 
it:  it's  your — the  family's— patent  of  nobility." 

"Well,"  said  the  old  farmer,  after  contemplating 
the  toes  of  his  boots  a  few  seconds,  **I  don't  mind 
ownin'  up  to  my  oldest  son  that  I  look  at  the  old 
watch  in  about  the  same  light ;  but  a  patent  of  nobil- 
ity is  a  disgrace  to  a  family  if  the  owner's  heir  isn't 
fit  to  inherit  it.  See?  Guess  you'd  better  make  up 
your  mind  to  break  yourself  into  your  comin'  re- 
sponsibilities, by  carryin'  that  watch  in  New  York. 
Wonder  what  time  'tis?" 

The  question  was  a  good  pretext  on  which  to  take 
B  3 


26  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

the  **. patent  of  nobility"  from  his  fob-pocket  and 
look  at  it.  He  did  it  in  a  way  which  caused  Phil 
quickly  to  avert  his  face  and  devote  himself  with 
great  industry  to  stacking  corn.  Half  a  minute  later 
the  old  man,  cutlass  in  hand,  was  cutting  corn  as  if 
his  life  depended  upon  it. 


CHAPTER     III. 

"down  to  YORK.'' 

Despite  his  father's  expressed  desire,  Phil  went  to 
New  York  on  Sol  Mivntriug's  sloop.  The  difference 
in  time  promised  to  be  a  day  or  two  days,  but  the 
difference  in  cash  outlay  was  more  than  five  dollars, — 
a  sum  which  no  one  in  the  vicinity  of  Hayn  Farm 
had  ever  been  known  to  spend  needlessly  without 
coming  to  grief.  Between  cash  in  hand  and  its  nomi- 
nal equivalent  in  time,  Phil,  like  most  other  prudent 
young  countrymen,  had  learned  to  distinguish  with 
alacrity  and  positiveness :  besides,  he  knew  how 
small  was  the  amount  of  ready  money  that  his  father, 
in  spite  of  care  and  skill  at  his  business,  was  able  to 
show  for  more  than  a  quarter  of  a  century  of  hard 
work. 

The  young  man's  departure  was  the  occasion  for 
quite  a  demonstration  by  the  neiglibors.  Otlier 
young  men  of  the  vicinage  had  been  to  New  York, 
but  generally  they  were  those  whom  their  neighbors 
did  not  Iiope  to  see  again  ;  Phil,  on  the  contrary,  was 
a  general  favorite.  His  family  intended  that  no  one 
should  know  of  the  journey  until  Phil  was  fairly  off, 
for  they  knew  by  experience,  in  which  sometimes 
they  had  been  the  offenders,  how  insatiable  is  rural 
curiosity  about  any  doings  out  of  the  ordinary.    But 

27 


28  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

when  Sol  Mantring  told  his  wife  that  Phil  was  to  go 
down  with  him.  as  a  '*  hand,"  Mrs.  Mantring  straight- 
way put  on  her  best  things  and  went  out  to  tell  all 
her  neighbors  that  Phil  Hayn  was  going  down  to 
York,  and,  being  a  woman  who  never  did  anything 
by  halves,  she  afterward  plodded  the  dusty  road  that 
led  to  the  little  village  at  the  railway-station,  where 
she  consumed  several  hours  in  doing  petty  shopping 
at  the  several  stores,  varying  this  recreation  by  indus- 
trious gossip  with  every  acquaintance  who  dropped 
in.  As  each  person  who  heard  the  news  wondered 
what  Phil  was  going  for,  and  as  Mrs.  Mantring  was 
sure  she  didn't  know  any  better  than  dead-and-gone 
Adam,  there  was  developed  a  wealth  of  surmise  and 
theory  that  should  have  forever  dispelled  tlie  general 
impression  that  Americans  are  not  an  imaginative 
people. 

For  the  remainder  of  Phil's  time  at  home  the  family 
and  its  eldest  son  had  scarcely  enough  time  to  them- 
selves to  attend  to  their  daily  devotions.  People 
came  to  borrow  something,  to  bring  news,  to  ask 
advice, — anything  that  would  be  an  excuse  to  see 
what  might  be  going  on  and  to  learn  why  Phil  was 
going  to  the  city.  Phil's  parents  had  prepared  what 
they  supposed  would  be  suflftcient  explanation :  the 
farm  and  the  house  needed  some  things  that  could 
better  be  selected  from  large  stocks  and  variety  than 
bought  nearer  home.  But  they  had  underrated  tlie 
persistency  of  local  curiosity  :  numberless  pointed 
questions  were  asked,  and  if  in  the  course  of  a  week 
there  had  been  any  visitor  who  did  not  ask,  in  one 
way  or  other,  whether  Phil  would  go  to  see  the 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  29 

Tramlays,  the  family  did  not  know  who  it  had  been  ; 
they  were  sure  they  would  have  gratefully  noted 
such  a  considerate  person  at  the  time,  and  remem- 
bered him— or  her— forever  after. 

There  were  scores,  too,  who  wanted  Phil  to  do  them 
small  services  in  the  city.  Farmer  Blewitt  had  heard 
that  the  car-companies  often  sold  for  almost  nothing 
the  horses  that  broke  down  at  their  hard  work  and 
needed  only  plenty  of  rest  and  pasturage  to  make 
them  as  good  as  new  :  wouldn't  Phil  look  about  and 
see  if  he  couldn't  get  him  a  bargain? — and  bring  it 
back  on  the  sloop,  if  he  wouldn't  mind  feeding  and 
watering  it  on  the  home  trip  !  Old  Mrs.  Wholley  had 
been  finding  her  spectacles  so  young  that  she  didn't 
know  but  she  needed  stronger  glasses,  or  maybe  a 
Bible  with  larger  print :  if  Phil  would  price  both  and 
write  her,  she  would  try  to  make  up  her  mind  what 
she  ought  to  do.  Samantha  Roobles  had  been  telling 
her  husband  James  for  the  last  five  years  that  their 
best-room  carpet  was  too  shabby  for  people  who  might 
have  a  funeral  in  the  family  at  any  time,  James's 
stepmother  being  very  old  and  sickly,  but  James 
wouldn't  do  anything  but  put  off,  and  as  for  her,  she 
wasn't  going  to  be  cheated  out  of  her  eye-teeth  at  the 
stores  at  the  d6p6t,  when  year  before  last  she  saw  in 
a  York  newspaper,  that  the  wind  blew  out  of  the 
hand  of  somebody  leaning  out  of  a  train  window, 
that  good  ingrains  were  selling  in  New  York  at 
thirty-five  cents  a  yard  :  she  wished  Phil  would  pick 
her  out  one. 

Besides  many  requests  like  these,  Phil  had  to  make 
promises  to  dozens  of  young  men  and  women  whoso 
8* 


30  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

wants  were  smaller,  but  none  the  easier  to  attend  to  : 
so  the  prospective  traveller  and  his  parents  had  the 
pains  of  parting  alleviated  by  the  thought  that  not 
until  Phil  departed  would  any  of  them  have  peace. 
The  day  of  sailing  brought  a  great  throng  of  visi- 
tors,— so  many  that  the  minister,  who  was  of  the  num- 
ber, extemporized  a  "  neighborhood  prayer-meeting," 
at  which  Providence  was  implored  to  "  save  our  dear 
young  brother  from  the  perils  of  the  deep,"  and  in- 
formed of  so  many  of  Phil's  good  qualities  that  only 
an  inborn  respect  for  religious  forms  restrained  the 
modest  youth  from  sneaking  out  of  the  back  door 
and  hiding  in  the  hull  of  the  sloop  until  there  was  a 
broad  expanse  of  water  between  him  and  the  shore. 

Then  the  entire  throng,  excepting  two  or  three  old 
ladies  who  remained  with  Mrs.  Hayn  "to  help  her 
bear  up,  poor  soul,"  escorted  Philto  the  sloop.  Among 
them  was  a  predominance  of  young  men  who  looked 
as  if  in  case  Phil  should  want  a  substitute  they  were 
ready,  and  of  young  women  whose  faces  indicated 
that  if  Phil  should  care  to  say  anything  tender  to 
anybod^^,  just  to  have  something  to  think  about  while 
away,  he  should  have  no  excuse  to  leave  it  unsaid. 
Sol  Mantring  cut  the  parting  short  by  remarking 
that  prayer  was  all  very  well  in  its  place,  but  he  didn't 
believe  in  it  keeping  a  sloop  in  a  sliallow  river  while 
the  tide  was  falling  and  no  wind  to  help  her  out.  So 
Phil  hurried  aboard,  though  not  before  his  father  had 
almost  crushed  his  hand  with  a  grasp  that  had  been 
developed  by  many  years  of  training  with  bridle- 
reins,  axe-helves,  and  paternal  affection. 

Some  one  cast  off  the  sloop's  hawser ;  the  mainsail 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  31 

was  already  up,  and  the  craft  began  to  drift  out  with 
the  tide.  This  was  the  sij?nal  for  a  flutter  of  hand- 
kercliiefs  and  a  chorus  of  cheers,  during  wliich 
Farmer  Hayn  plodded  along  the  river-bank  beside 
the  sloop,  regardless  of  mud,  stones,  marsh  grass 
and  cat-tails.  He  seemed  to  have  no  last  injunctions 
for  his  boy  ;  indeed,  his  occasional  shouts  were  be- 
stowed principally  upon  Sol  Mantring,  who  stood 
at  the  wheel,  and  they  had  no  more  relation  to  Phil 
than  to  the  Khan  of  Khiva.  In  like  manner  Phil 
seemed  less  interested  in  his  father  than  in  the  maze 
of  cordage  at  the  foot  of  the  mast.  Nevertheless, 
when  the  river-bank  ended  at  the  shore  of  the  bay, 
and  could  be  followed  no  longer,  the  old  man  stood 
there,  as  Sol  Mantring  said  afterward,  *'  lookin'  as  if 
he'd  lost  his  last  friend,  never  expected  to  git  another, 
an'  he'd  got  ten  year  older  all  of  a  sudden,''  and  Phil, 
when  he  saw  this,  straightened  in  front  of  the  friendly 
mast  which  hid  him  from  the  remainder  of  the  crew, 
and  threw  kisses  to  his  father,  with  the  profusion  of 
early  childhood,  as  long  as  he  could  distinguish  the 
dingy  old  coat  and  hat  from  the  stones  of  similar 
hue  that  marked  the  little  point. 

"The  perils  of  the  deep"  were  happily  averted. 
Indeed,  Phil  would  willingly  have  endured  more 
could  the  wind  have  blown  harder.  The  sloop  finally 
made  her  pier  in  New  York  about  dusk  of  the  second 
day.  Phil  hastily  donned  his  best  suit,  and  as  the 
part  of  the  city  in  which  the  iron-merchants  cluster 
was  not  far  away,  and  Sol  Mantring  knew  the  streets 
of  that  portion  of  the  city,  Phil  started,  witli  minute 
directions  from  the  skipper,  to  call  on  Mr.  Tramlay. 


32  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

His  singleness  of  purpose  made  him  unconscious  that 
he  was  acting  in  a  manner  not  common  to  him,  but 
as  he  climbed  the  side  of  the  pier  and  hurried  to- 
ward the  mass  of  light  before  him  Sol  Mantring  re- 
marked to  the  remainder  of  the  crew,  consisting  of 
two  men, — 

**  I  knowed  it." 

"Knowed  what?'^ 

*'  He's  gal-struck.    Got  it  bad." 

Phil  made  his  way  up  the  principal  thoroughfare 
from  New  York  to  Brooklyn,  wondering  at  the 
thronged  sidewalks  and  brilliantly-lighted  shops, 
but  he  did  not  neglect  to  eye  the  street-names  on  cor- 
ner-lamps. Soon  he  turned  into  a  street  which  was 
part  of  his  course  as  laid  down  by  Sol ;  at  the  same 
time  he  turned  from  light  to  darkness,  the  change 
being  almost  appalling  in  its  suddenness.  Still  he 
hurried  on,  and  after  another  turn  began  to  look  for 
numbers  on  the  fronts  of  buildings.  His  heart 
bounded  within  him  as  he  suddenly  saw,  by  the  light 
of  a  street-lamp,  the  sign  EDGAR*^  TRAMLAY.  In 
an  instant  his  hand  was  on  the  door-knob ;  but  the 
door  did  not  open.  Through  the  glass  door  he  saw 
two  or  three  dim  lights  within.  Probably  the  pro- 
prietor was  at  his  desk ;  perhaps,  too,  he  should  have 
knocked  ;  so  knock  he  did. 

"What  d'ye  want  there,  young  feller?"  shouted  a 
policeman  across  the  street. 

*'  I  want  to  see  Mr.  Tramlay." 

"  Guess  your  watch  is  slow,  ain't  it?"  growled  the 
oflaicer. 

"  I  don't  know  :  maybe  so,"  Phil  replied. 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  33 

**  Don't  you  know  better'n  to  come  huntin'  down 
here  for  a  bizness-mau  after  six  o'clock  at  night?" 
asked  the  officer. 

Phil  admitted  to  himself  that  he  did  not ;  still,  he 
had  come  ashore  to  find  Mr.  Tramlay,  and  the  idea 
of  giving  up  the  search  did  not  occur  to  him.  He 
finally  asked, — 

**  Where  do  you  suppose  I  can  find  him?" 

"At  home,  I  guess,  if  he's  one  of  the  kind  that 
goes  straight  home  from  his  store." 

'*  I  reckon  he  is,"  said  Phil.  **  Will  you  please  tell 
me  where  he  lives?" 

'*  Oh,  come  off!"  muttered  the  policeman.  "  D'ye 
s'pose  I  ain't  got  nothin'  to  do  but  know  where 
folks  live?  Where  was  you  brought  up? — 'way 
back?" 

*'  I'm  sorry  I  bothered  you,  sir,"  said  Phil,  who 
now  saw  the  officer's  uniform,  and  recognized  it,  by 
memory  of  pictures  he  had  seen  in  illustrated  news- 
papers. "Isn't  there  any  way  to  find  out  where  a 
man  lives  in  New  York?" 

'  *  Certainly  ;  look  in  the  Directory.  Go  up  to  Broad- 
way,— it's  up  at  the  head  of  this  street, — an'  go  along 
till  you  find  a  drug-store.  Like  enough  you'll  find  a 
Directory  there." 

Phil  followed  instructions,  and  learned  the  street 
and  number  of  the  Tramlay  domicile.  In  front  of 
him  street-cars  were  continually  coming  and  going, 
and  by  the  conductors  of  these  he  was  referred  from 
one  to  another  until  he  found  a  car  which  went  to 
the  street  he  wanted  to  reach.  Although  Phil  knew 
the  city  was  large,  the  journey  seemed  very  long ;  it 


34  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

was  made  an  hour  longer  than  it  should  have  been ; 
for  a  fire  had  broken  out  somewhere  along  the  route, 
and  engine-hose  blockaded  the  railway-track.  When 
finally  the  desired  street  was  reached,  Phil  found 
himself  several  hundred  numbers  away  from  that  he 
was  looking  for,  and  it  was  then  nearly  nine  o'clock. 

"I've  half  a  mind  to  give  it  up,"  said  Phil,  as  he 
walked  rapidly  along.  "Perhaps  they  go  to  bed 
early :  there's  no  telling.  Still,  if  they're  abed  I'll 
know  it  by  the  lights  being  out.  I  don't  seem  to 
walk  down  these  numbers  very  fast." 

He  quickened  his  steps ;  he  almost  ran  ;  but  more 
than  a  quarter  of  an  hour  passed  before  he  saw  on 
a  glass  transom  the  number  that  indicated  his  jour- 
ney was  at  an  end.  Phil  stopped ;  then  he  crossed 
the  street,  and  surveyed  the  house  carefully. 

"Lights  in  all  the  windows,"  said  he.  "That 
looks  as  if  they'd  all  gone  to  their  own  rooms  ;  looks 
like  bedtime.  I  was  afraid  of  it.  I  suppose  there's 
nothing  to  do  but  go  back  to  the  sloop,  or  find  some 
place  to  lodge.    Too  bad  !'* 

He  re-crossed  the  street,  and  ascended  a  step  or 
two :  truthful  though  he  was,  he  would  have  denied 
to  any  one  but  himself  that  he  did  it  only  because 
Lucia  had  tripped  up  those  same  steps.  Slowly  he 
descended  and  walked  away  ;  but  he  had  passed  but 
a  house  or  two,  and  was  looking  backward,  when  a 
man  who  had  passed  him  ran  up  the  Tramlay  steps. 
Then  Phil  saw  a  flash  of  light  and  heard  a  door 
close. 

"That  wasn't  Mr.  Tramlay.  There  aren't  any 
other  men  in  the  family.     He  must  be  a  visitor. 


COUNTRY  LUCK,  35 

Well,  if  other  men  can  call  at  this  time  of  night,  I 
guess  I  can  visit  it  too." 

Back  he  went,  and,  as  he  was  unacquainted  witli 
the  outer  mechanism  of  door-bells,  he  rapped  sharply 
upon  the  door.  It  opened  instantly,  and  as  Phil 
stepped  in  he  found  the  hall  and  stairway,  as  well  as 
the  parlors,  quite  full  of  ladies  and  gentlemen. 

"It's  a  party,"  he  said  to  himself.  Then  he  in- 
formed himself,  in  great  haste,  that  he  would  post- 
pone his  visit,  but  as  he  turned  to  go  he  found  the 
door  was  closed,  and  a  small  colored  boy  who  stood 
by  it  said,  **  Gkn'lmen  fust  room  back,"  and  pointed 
up-stairs.  Entirely  losing  his  self-possession,  and 
wondering  what  to  do,  Phil  stood  stupidly  staring 
about  him,  when  suddenly  he  saw  Lucia  in  full  even- 
ing dress.  He  hastily  dropped  his  eyes,  for  he  had 
never  before  seen  a  dress  of  that  particular  cut. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

THE  TBAMIiAY  RECEPTION. 

"Well,  who  hasn't  come?"  asked  Edgar  Tram- 
lay,  as  Lucia  hurried  toward  him  with  a  counte- 
nance in  which  despondency  and  indignation  were 
striving  for  mastery.  Tramlay  knew  his  daughter's 
moods,  for  tliey  were  exact  dupUcates  of  some  he 
had  married  a  score  of  years  before. 

**  Oil,  if  he  hadn't  come  !— if  he  hadn't  come !" 

The  head  of  the  family  looked  puzzled  ;  then  his 
expression  changed  to  indignation  as  he  asked, — 

"  Has  any  one  dared  to  come  to  my  house  after 
drinking?" 

"Worse  than  that!"  wailed  Lucia,  shuddering, 
and  covering  her  eyes  with  her  pretty  hands.  Her 
father  at  once  strode  to  the  hall-way,  looking  like  an 
avenging  angel ;  but  when  he  reached  the  door  and 
took  in  at  a  glance  the  entire  cause  of  his  daughter's 
annoyance  he  quickly  put  on  a  smile,  and  ex- 
claimed,— 

"Why,  my  dear  fellow,  how  lucky  that  you  hap- 
pened in  town  on  our  reception  evening !  Come 
with  me  ;  Mrs.  Tramlay  will  be  deUghted  to  see  you 
again." 

Phil  resisted  the  hand  laid  upon  his  arm,  and  re- 
plied,— 
36 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  37 

"  I'll  call  again,— some  other  time.  I  didn't  know 
you  had  company  this  evening." 

**  All  the  better,"  said  the  host,  leading  Phil  along ; 
**  'twill  give  you  a  chance  to  meet  some  of  our  friends. 
We've  met  many  of  yours,  you  know." 

Just  then  the  couple  stopped  in  front  of  a  sofa  on 
which  Phil,  whose  eyes  were  still  cast  down,  saw  the 
skirts  of  two  or  three  dresses.  Then  he  heard  his 
escort  say, — 

**  My  dear,  you  remember  our  old  friend  Phil  Hayn, 
I'm  sure?" 

Phil  looked  up  just  in  time  to  see  Mrs.  Tramlay's 
feeble  nervous  face  twitch  into  surprise  and  some- 
thing like  horror.  Mr.  Tramlay  extended  his  hand, 
as  a  hint  that  his  wife  should  arise,— a  hint  which 
could  not  be  ignored  after  his  hand  had  closed  upon 
hers.  Even  when  upon  her  feet,  however,  the  lady 
of  the  house  seemed  unable  to  frame  a  greeting; 
had  Phil  been  a  city  acquaintance,  no  matter  how 
uninteresting,  she  would  have  smiled  evasively  and 
told  him  she  was  delighted  that  he  had  been  able 
to  come,  but  what  could  a  lady,  at  her  own  reception, 
say  to  a  young  man  in  a  sack-coat  and  a  hard-rubber 
watch-guard  ? 

Mrs.  Tramlay  looked  at  her  husband  in  weak  pro- 
test ;  her  husband  frowned  a  little  and  nodded  his 
head  impatiently  ;  this  pantomime  finally  stimulated 
Mrs.  Tramlay  to  such  a  degree  that  she  was  able  to 
ejaculate, — 

*'  What  a  delightful  surprise  !" 

**Lct  me  make  you  acquainted  with  some  of  the 
company,"  said  the  host,  drawing  Phil  away.  "Don't 
4 


38  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

feel  uncomfortable  ;  I'll  explain  that  you  just  dropped 
in  from  out  of  town,  so  you  couldn't  be  expected  to 
be  in  evening  dress." 

Phil  began  to  recover  from  his  embarrassment, 
thanks  to  his  host's  heartiness,  but  also  to  the  fact 
that  the  strain  had  been  too  severe  to  last  long.  He 
slowly  raised  his  eyes  and  looked  about  him,  assisted 
somewhat  by  curiosity  as  to  what  "evening  dress" 
meant.  He  soon  saw  that  all  the  gentlemen  wore 
black  clothes  and  white  ties,  and  that  the  skirts  of 
the  coats  retired  rapidly.  He  had  seen  such  a  coat 
before,— seen  it  often  at  Haynton,  on  Ex-Judge  Dick- 
man,  who  had  served  two  terms  in  the  Legislature 
and  barely  escaped  going  to  Congress.  The  only  dif- 
ference between  them  was  that  the  judge's  swallow- 
tail coat  was  blue  and  had  brass  buttons,— not  a  great 
difference,  if  one  considered  the  distance  of  New 
York  and  Haynton. 

"Upon  my  word,"  exclaimed  Tramlay,  suddenly, 
"I  don't  believe  you've  met  Lucia  yet.  Here  she 
is— daughter?" 

Lucia  was  floating  by, — a  vision  of  tulle,  ivory, 
peachblow,  and  amber ;  she  leaned  on  the  arm  of  a 
young  man,  into  whose  face  she  was  looking  intently, 
probably  as  an  excuse  for  not  looking  at  the  unwel- 
come visitor.  Her  father's  voice,  however,  she  had 
always  instinctively  obeyed ;  so  she  stopped,  pouted, 
and  looked  defiantly  at  Phil,  who  again  dropped  his 
eyes,  a  low  bow  giving  him  a  pretext. 

"Daughter,"  s^id  Tramlay,  "here's  our  old  friend 
Phil,  from  Haynton.  Now,  don't  spend  the  whole 
evening  talking  over  old  times  with  him,  but  intro- 


COUNTRY  LUCK,  39 

duce  him  to  a  lot  of  pretty  girls :  you  know  them 
better  than  I.  Phil,  you  can  explain  to  tliem  how 
you  struck  a  full-dress  reception  just  after  landing 
from  a  cruise ;  'twill  amuse  them  more,  I'll  warrant, 
than  any  story  any  showy  young  fellow  can  tell  them 
this  evening.  It  isn't  every  young  man  who  can 
have  a  good  thing  to  tell  against  himself  the  first 
time  he  meets  a  new  set." 

During  the  delivery  of  this  long  speech  Lucia  eyed 
Phil  with  boldness  and  disfavor,  but  in  obedience  to 
her  father  she  took  Phil's  arm, — an  act  that  so  quickly 
improved  the  young  man's  opinion  of  himself  that 
he  instantly  felt  at  ease  and  got  command  of  such 
natural  graces  as  he  possessed  ;  he  was  even  enabled 
to  look  down  at  the  golden  head  by  his  shoulder  and 
make  some  speeches  bright  enough  to  cheer  Lucia's 
face. 

"It  mayn't  be  so  entirely  dreadful,  after  all," 
thought  the  girl ;  "I  can  introduce  him  to  friends  to 
whom  I  could  afterward  explain,— friends  who  are 
too  good-hearted  to  make  spiteful  remarks  afterward. 
Besides,  I  can  blame  father  for  it :  all  girls  have 
fathers  whose  ways  are  queer  in  one  way  or  anotlier." 

While  acting  upon  this  plan,  and  finding,  to  her 
great  relief,  that  Phil  could  talk  courteous  nothings 
to  new  acquaintances,  she  suddenly  found  herself 
face  to  face  with  a  man  of  uncertain  age  but  faultless 
dress  and  manner,  who  said, — 

"  Mayn't  I  be  favored  with  an  introduction  ?  Your 
friend  is  being  so  heartily  praised  by  your  father 
that  I  am  quite  anxious  to  know  him." 

**  Mr.  Marge,  Mr.  Hayn,"  said  Lucia.    Phil's  prof- 


40  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

fered  hand  was  taken  by  what  seemed  to  be  a  bit  of 
languid  machinery,  although  encircled  at  one  end 
by  a  cuff  and  coat-sleeve  and  decorated  with  a  seal- 
ring.  Phil  scanned  with  interest  the  face  before  him, 
for  he  had  often  heard  Mr.  Marge  mentioned  when 
the  Tramlay  family  were  at  Haynton.  His  look  was 
returned  by  one  that  might  have  been  a  stare  had 
it  possessed  a  single  indication  of  interest,  sui-prise, 
or  curiosity.  Mr.  Marge  had  met  young  men  before  ; 
he  had  been  seeing  new  faces  for  twenty-five  years, 
and  one  more  or  less  could  not  rouse  him  from  the 
composure  which  he  had  been  acquiring  during  all 
that  time. 

**  Can  you  spare  your  friend  a  few  moments?"  said 
Mr.  Marge  to  Lucia.  "  I  would  be  glad  to  introduce 
him  to  some  of  the  gentlemen." 

*'  You  are  very  kind,"  murmured  Lucia,  who  was 
dying — so  she  informed  herself— to  rejoin  some  of 
her  girl  friends  and  explain  tlie  awkward  nature  of 
the  intrusion.  Marge  offered  Phil  his  arm,  a  courtesy 
the  young  man  did  not  understand,  so  he  took  Phil's 
instead,  and  presented  the  youth  to  several  gentle- 
men as  an  old  friend  of  the  family.  Soon,  however, 
Marge  led  Phil  into  a  tiny  room  at  the  rear  of  the 
hall, — a  room  nominally  the  library,  the  books  con- 
sisting of  a  dictionary  and  a  Bible,  the  greater  part 
of  the  shelf-space  being  occupied  by  pipes,  tobacco- 
boxes,  cigar-cases,  ash-receivers,  and  other  appurte- 
nances of  the  vice  and  comfort  of  smoking.  Placing 
Phil  in  a  great  easy-chair,  the  back  of  which  hid  him 
from  the  company.  Marge  took  a  cigarette  from  his 
own  case,  which  he  afterward  passed  to  Phil. 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  41 

"No  small  vices,"  said  he,  as  Phil  declined.  "Just 
as  well  off,  I  suppose.  As  for  me,"— here  Mr.  Marge 
struck  a  match,— "  I've  (puff)  been  acquainted  with 
the  weed  so  long  that  (puff)  I  can't  very  well  snub  it 
when  I  would." 

"  I  think  nicotine  is  injurious  to  the  brain,  the 
lungs,  and  finally  to  the  digestion,"  said  Phil. 
*  *  Have  you  seen  Professor  BenchoPs  analyses  ?  They 
were  printed  in  the " 

**  I  may  have  seen  them  in  print,  but  I'm  sure  I 
passed  them,"  said  Marge,  exhaling  smoke  in  such  a 
way  that  it  hid  his  face  for  an  instant.  "I  can't 
afford  to  worry  myself  with  information  that  I'd 
ratlier  not  use." 

"But  one's  physique "  said  Phil. 

"  One's  physique  becomes  quite  obliging  when  it 
knows  what  is  expected  of  it." 

Phil  mentally  sought  a  way  of  passing  this  unex- 
pected obstacle :  meanwhile.  Marge  breathed  lazily 
through  his  cigarette  a  moment  or  two,  and  then 
said, — 

"  Miss  Tramlay  is  a  charming  girl." 

"Indeed  she  is,"  Phil  replied.  "If  she  only 
were " 

"Tut,  tut,  my  dear  sir,"  said  Marge,  "woman  is 
divine,  and  it  isn't  good  form  to  criticise  divinity. 
Miss  Tramlay  is  remarkably  pretty  :  I  trust  we  agree 
at  least  upon  tliat  safe  ground?" 

"Pretty?"  echoed  Phil,  before  Marge  had  ceased 
speaking.     "  She  is  radiant,— angelic !" 

Again  Mr.  Marge  enshrouded  his  face  with  smoke, 
after  which  he  did  not  continue  the  conversation, 
4* 


42  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

except  to  remark, '  *  Yes. ' '  Phil  studied  the  color-tone 
of  the  roora,  and  wondered  why  paper  Uke  that  on 
the  wall  had  not  been  offered  for  sale  by  the  store- 
keeper at  Haynton  ;  then  he  resolved  he  would  buy 
and  take  home  to  his  mother  a  chair  just  like  that  in 
which  he  was  sitting,  for  it  was  so  comfortable  that 
he  felt  as  if  he  could  fall  asleep  in  it.  Indeed,  he 
was  already  so  oblivious  to  Marge  and  other  human 
presence  that  he  was  startled  when  a  gentle  rustle 
ushered  in  Lucia,  who  exclaimed, — 

"  Phil,  you  must  come  back  to  the  parlor.  Half  a 
dozen  girls  are  real  envious  because  they  haven't  seen 
you  at  all,  and  half  a  dozen  others  want  to  see  more 
of  you.  Father  has  been  sounding  your  praises  until 
they're  sure  the  Admirable  Crichton  has  come  to  life 
again."  ^ 

Phil  attempted  to  rise, — an  awkward  operation  to 
a  man  previously  unacquainted  witli  Turkish  chairs. 
Lucia  laughed,  and  offered  him  assistance :  it  was 
only  a  little  hand,  but  he  took  it,  and  as  he  looked 
his  thanks  he  saw  Lucia's  face  as  he  had  sometimes 
known  it  of  old, — entirely  alert  and  merry.  At  the 
same  time  a  load  fell  from  his  mind,  a  load  which  he 
had  been  vaguely  trying  to  attribute  to  the  lateness 
of  the  hour,  the  strangeness  of  his  surroundings, — 
anything  but  the  manner  in  which  the  girl  liad  first 
greeted  him.  As  she  took  his  arm  and  hurried  him 
out  of  tlie  library  he  felt  so  fully  himself  that  he  for- 
got even  that  he  was  not  attired  like  the  gentlemen 
around  him. 

Mr.  Marge,  who  had  risen  when  Lucia  entered  the 
library,  followed  the  coui)le  with  his  eyes  ;  then,  when 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  43 

alone,  he  frowned  slightly,  bit  his  lip,  dropped  the 
end  of  his  cigarette,  paced  to  and  fro  several  times, 
leaned  on  the  mantel,  and  muttered, — 

"♦PhiP!" 

Then  he  lighted  another  cigarette,  and  veiled  hia 
face  in  smoke  for  several  minutes. 


CHAPTER   V. 

NOT  SO  DBEADFUL.  AFTER  ALL. 

Regular  hours  being  among  the  requirements 
of  the  head  of  the  Tramlay  household,  Lucia  ap- 
peared at  the  breakfast-table,  the  niorning  after  the 
reception,  as  the  clock  struck  eight.  Her  father, 
dressed  for  business,  and  her  mother,  in  negligee 
attire  and  expression,  were  discussing  the  unbidden 
guest  of  the  evening  before. 

''But  he  was  so  country, — so  dreadful  common," 
protested  Mrs.  Tramlay,  with  her  customary  helpless 
air. 

''Nonsense!"  said  her  husband.  "There  was 
noticing  country  or  common  about  his  face  and 
manners.  There  hasn't  been  so  bright-eyed,  manly- 
looking  a  fellow  in  our  house  before  since  I  don't 
know  when.    Eh,  Lucia?" 

"  Agnes  Dinon  said  he  was  real  fine-looking,"  the 
girl  answered. 

"Agnes  Dinon  is  thirty-six,  if  she's  a  day,"  said 
Mrs.  Tramlay,  in  a  petulant  tone. 

"So  much  the  better  fitted  to  pass  opinions  on 
young  men,"  said  Tramlay.  "Shows  more  sense  in 
one  girl  of  her  age  than  a  hundred  like — like " 

"  Like  me,  papa,"  said  Lucia.    "  You  may  as  well 
say  it." 
44 


COVNTRY  LUCK.  45 

*'  Like  you,  then.  Bless  your  dear  ignorant  heart, 
I'd  give  my  head  if  you  could  see  as  clearly  as  she 
without  waiting  so  long  to  learn." 

"You  may  be  very  sure,  though,  that  Miss  Agnes 
will  never  invite  him  to  her  own  receptions,"  de- 
clared Mrs.  Tramlay. 

"Wrong  again,  mamma;  she's  invited  him  for 
next  Tuesday  night,  and  I  do  believe  she  devised 
the  reception  just  for  the  purpose.  None  of  us  had 
heard  of  it  before." 

Mrs.  Tramlay  gathered  all  her  strength,  stimulated 
it  with  an  entire  cup  of  tea,  and  exclaimed, — 

"Well,  I  should  like  to  know  what  society  is 
coming  to,  if  a  common  farmer's  boy,  of  no  family, 
can  stumble  into  town  and  be  invited  about  to  good 
houses." 

"  Coming  to  ?  Why,  my  dear  wife,  it  is  coming  to 
its  senses.  I'm  glad,  in  this  particular  case,  the 
movement  began  at  our  house." 

"Nobody  would  have  paid  any  attention  to  him, 
if  you  hadn't  talked  so  much  about  him,"  said  Mrs. 
Tramlay.  "One  would  have  thought  him  a  dear 
old  friend,  to  hear  you  go  on  about  him  as  you  did." 

"  I  said  nothing  but  what  was  true.  I  merely  said 
he  was  one  of  the  finest  young  men  I  had  ever 
known,— that  he  was  of  the  highest  character,  and 
very  intelligent  besides." 

"  Such  qualities  don't  make  a  man  fit  for  society," 
said  the  lady  of  the  house. 

"  No,  I  suppose  not ;  if  they  did  we'd  see  more  of 
them  at  our  receptions  and  parties." 

"Edgar!" 


46  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"Well,  well,"  said  Tramlay,  leaving  the  table, 
kissing  his  wife,  and  preparing  to  hurry  to  his  office, 
"it  isn't  your  fault;  we  can't  expect  what  can't  be 
had,  I  suppose." 

"Lucia,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  after  the  children 
had  been  despatched  to  school,  "  I  hope  your  father's 
peculiar  notions  won't  affect  you." 

"About  Phil?  Nonsense,  you  dear  old  worry! 
But,  really,  mother,  he  made  quite  an  impression.  A 
lot  of  the  girls  admired  him  ever  so  much.  I  began 
to  apologize  and  explain,  as  soon  as  I  could  get  rid 
of  him  ;  but  I  found  it  wasn't  at  all  necessary." 

"Girls  will  admire  anything  that's  new,— any- 
thing, from  a  Zulu  to  a  monkey." 

"  Mamma !" 

"  Young  men  like  Hayn  can't  ever  marry  out  of 
their  own  circle :  you  should  be  able  to  see  that. 
How  can  they  buy  houses  for  their  wives,  and  fur- 
nish them  properly,  and  set  up  horses  and  carriages, 
and  keep  in  society  ?" 

"Mamma,  you're  too  dreadfully  funny;  indeed 
you  are.  Suppose  young  men  aren't  rich  enough  to 
marry ;  can't  girls  like  them?  Aren't  young  people 
good  for  anything  but  to  get  married  ?" 

"I'm  very  sorry,"  said  the  mother,  abruptly  leav- 
ing the  room,  "  that  you  have  such  trifling  views  of 
life." 

When  Philip  Hayn  left  the  family  mansion,  a  little 
after  midnight,  he  had  but  two  distinct  ideas :  one 
was  that  he  had  better  find  his  way  back  to  Sol 
Mantring's  sloop  to  sleep,  and  the  otlier  was  that  he 
didn't  believe  he  could  fall  asleep  again  in  less  than  a 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  47 

week.  All  that  he  had  seen,  the  people  not  excepted, 
was  utterly  unlike  Haynton.  The  conversation,  also, 
was  new,  although  he  could  not  remember  much  of  it ; 
and  the  ladies— well,  he  always  had  admired  whatever 
was  admirable  in  the  young  women  in  the  village, 
but  there  certainly  were  no  such  handsome  and  bril- 
liant girls  at  Haynton  as  some  he  had  met  that 
night.  He  could  not  explain  to  himself  the  differ- 
ence, except  that,  compared  with  Lucia's  friends, 
his  old  acquaintances  appeared — well,  rather  unfin- 
ished and  ignorant.  And  as  far  as  these  new  ac- 
quaintances appeared  above  his  older  ones,  so  far 
did  Lucia  appear  above  her  friends.  He  had  studied 
her  face  scores  of  times  before,  and  told  himself 
where  it  was  faulty;  now  he  mentally  withdrew 
every  criticism  he  had  ever  made,  and  declared  her 
perfection  itself.  Would  he  ever  forget  how  she 
looked  as  she  offered  to  help  him  from  that  easy- 
chair  in  the  library?  He  wished  his  mother  might 
have  seen  her  at  that  instant ;  then  he  was  glad  she 
did  not.  He  remembered  that  his  mother  did  not 
entirely  approve  of  some  of  Lucia's  bathing-dresses ; 
what  would  the  good  woman  think  of  fashionable 
evening  attire?  And  yet  perhaps  it  was  not  as 
dreadful  as  it  seemed  :  evidently  Lucia's  mother  ap- 
proved of  it,  and  was  not  she  a  member  of  a  church, 
— not,  he  regretted,  of  the  faith  in  which  all  Hayn- 
ton worshipped,  yet  still  a  church?  And  did  not 
many  of  Lucia's  guests  dress  in  similar  style? 

He  mentally  laid  the  subject  away  for  future  con- 
sideration, and  gave  his  mind  to  his  own  attire. 
Until  that  evening  his  faith  in  the  perfection  of  his 


48  COUNTRY  LUCK, 

Sunday  suit  was  as  unquestioning  as  his  faith  in 
Haynton's  preaclier,  but  now  it  was  hopelessly  shat- 
tered. He  did  not  admire  the  attire  of  the  gentlemen 
he  had  met,  but  the  evidence  was  overwhelming  that 
it  was  the  correct  thing,  and  that  he  must  prepare 
himself  to  dress  in  like  fashion  if  he  went  to  Miss 
Dinon's  party.  And,  by  the  way,  what  a  queenly 
woman  that  Miss  Dinon  was  !  He  would  like  to 
meet  her  again  :  he  certainly  must  attend  that  j)arty. 
But  if  he  bought  evening  dress,  what  should  he  do 
with  it  when  he  left  the  city?  No  young  man  felt 
more  freedom  than  he  to  do  as  he  liked  in  Haynton, 
but  to  appear  in  a  "swallow-tail"  at  church  or  any- 
where else  in  the  village  would  be  simply  impossible : 
the  mere  thought  of  it  made  him  tremble  and  then 
laugh.  A  suit  of  clothes  merely  to  wear  two  or  three 
evenings — perhaps  only  one — would  be  a  shocking 
extravagance :  they  probably  would  cost  half  as 
much  as  a  new  horse,  or  two  or  three  dozen  of  the 
books  he  had  for  years  been  longing  to  buy.  He 
would  give  up  Miss  Dinon's  party :  the  thought  of 
doing  so  made  him  doleful,  but  do  it  he  must. 

Almost  immediately  after  forming  this  virtuous 
resolution  he  boarded  a  horse-car,  on  which  were 
several  couples,  evidently  returning  from  a  party 
somewhere :  so  again  Phil  found  himself  studying 
attire.  Gradually  it  occurred  to  him  that  his  own 
appearance  was  attracting  attention.  This  was  not 
a  new  experience :  he  had  encountered  it  several 
times  at  Haynton  with  calmness  ;  indeed,  although 
he  was  not  vain,  he  had  never  feared  comparison,  in 
church,  of  his  appearance  with  that  of  any  summer 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  49 

boarder  from  the  city ;  for,  as  his  mother  has  already 
intimated  in  these  pages,  his  Sunday  coat  had  been 
cut  from  the  same  piece  of  cloth  as  the  minister's. 
But  now  he  felt  ill  at  ease  while  being  eyed,  not  at 
all  impertinently,  by  the  young  people  who  sat  facing 
him.  First  he  thought  the  mildly  critical  glances 
were  directed  to  his  hard-rubber  watch-guard ;  then 
he  was  sure  the  cut  of  his  vest  was  not  being  ap- 
proved ;  he  detected  one  very  pretty  young  woman 
in  the  act  of  suppressing  a  smile  as  she  looked  at  his 
shoes.  Thirdly,  he  was  obliged  to  believe  that  an 
admirably-dressed  fellow  opposite  entirely  disap- 
proved of  his  Sunday  coat, — the  coat  cut  from  min- 
ister's cloth  and  made  by  Sarah  Tweege,  and  with  a 
real  silk-velvet  collar,  too ! 

Little  by  little  Phil  lost  his  self-possession ;  he 
could  scarcely  look  in  any  direction  without  encoun- 
tering the  eyes  of  some  one  who  seemed  to  regard 
him  as  a  curiosity.  An  attempt  to  ignore  the  atten- 
tion by  reading  the  advertising  signs  above  the  win- 
dows of  the  car  was  a  dismal  failure,  for  he  somehow 
felt  that  several  pairs  of  eyes  were  upon  him,  and  this 
was  rather  more  annoying  than  seeing  them.  The 
strain  became  unendurable ;  so  he  suddenly  looked 
through  a  window,  as  if  to  see  where  he  was,  then 
hastily  went  to  the  rear  platform  and  asked  the  con- 
ductor to  let  him  off.  As  he  stood  there  he  heard  a 
young  man  whisper, — 

"Country!" 

Then  he  heard  a  young  woman  softly  ejaculate,— 

"Te-he!" 

The  street  was  as  dark  as  gas-lighted  streets  usually 
0       d  6 


50  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

are  ;  it  was  almost  deserted,  and  the  autumn  evening 
was  quite  chilly,  but  Phil  felt  as  if  his  blazing  eyes 
were  illuminating  everything, — as  if  the  walls  had 
eyes  to  look  disapprovingly  at  Haynton  fashions,  or 
as  if  his  own  blood  were  hot  enough  to  warm  the 
entire  atmosphere  of  New  York.  He  knew  what  he 
would  do :  when  he  reached  Sol  Mantring's  sloop  he 
would  remain  aboard  until  she  sailed  ;  then  he  would 
go  back  to  Haynton  and  remain  there  forever.  He 
could  exist  without  New  York,  if  New  York  found 
him  unsatisfactory.  He  didn't  care  ever  to  see  again 
anybody  in  New  York,  except,  perhaps,  Lucia.    As 

for  her,  hadn't  even  she 

Before  the  next  car  arrived,  Phil  had  entirely 
changed  his  mind.  Nevertheless,  before  continuing 
his  journey  he  cautiously  peered  in  to  see  if  any  of  the 
passengers  were  likely  to  prove  critical.  There  seemed 
to  be  no  one  to  fear;  at  one  end  of  the  car  was  a 
shabby-looking  peddler  with  his  pack,  evidently  ar- 
rived by  a  late  train  from  the  suburbs ;  at  the  other 
an  old  man  seemed  inclined  to  doze,  and  directly 
opposite  the  newest  passenger  sat  a  plain,  modest- 
looking  person,  whom  a  New  Yorker  would  have 
rightly  identified  as  a  waiter  at  a  restaurant  or  caf6. 
Apparently  three  persons  less  qualified  or  inclined  to 
criticise  personal  appearance  could  not  have  been 
found  by  careful  search  ;  yet  within  five  minutes  Phil 
was  sure  that  all  of  them  had  noticed  him  and  studied 
him.  As  he  was  disinclined  to  squander  another 
car-fare  on  his  feelings,  he  sought  the  dusky  seclusion 
of  the  rear  platform  and  engaged  the  conductor  in 
conversation,  which  on  Phil's  part  consisted  solely 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  51 

of  questions ;  yet  he  was  astonished,  as  well  as  indig- 
nant, when  the  conductor  remarked,  at  a  moment 
wlien  the  talk  sliowed  signs  of  lagging, — 

"You're  from  the  rural  district,  I  s'pose?" 

"What  makes  you  say  that?"  asked  Phil,  indi- 
cating a  sense  of  injury. 

"Oh,  I  didn't  mean  nothin'  out  of  the  way,"  said 
the  conductor.  "  I  only  kinder  thought  I  was  sure— 
why,  I  come  from  the  country  myself;  yes  sir,  an'  I 
ain't  ashamed  of  it,  neither." 

The  explanation  was  not  satisfactory ;  so  Phil 
completed  the  trip  in  gloomy  silence,  and  he  felt  a 
sense  of  great  relief  when  he  reached  Sol  Mantring's 
sloop  and  made  his  way  into  the  little  cabin,  where, 
of  the  three  men  lying  at  ease,  no  one  took  the  pains 
to  intimate  that  Phil  was  anything  but  city-born  and 
city- bred. 


CHAPTER  VI. 

RECONSTRUCTION. 

Phil  devoted  part  of  the  next  day  to  studying  well- 
dressed  business-men  in  the  streets.  Thanks  to  well- 
trained  perceptive  faculties,  and  also  to  some  large 
mirrors  which  he  accidentally  encountered,  he  soon 
learned  why  his  attire  had  attracted  attention.  Then 
he  compared  clothing-stores  for  an  hour,  finally  en- 
tered one  and  asked  how  long  it  would  take  to 
make  a  well-fitting  every-day  suit.  The  salesman 
looked  him  over,  and  replied, — 

"Fit  you  at  once,  from  our  ready-made  stock. 
Never  any  trouble  to  fit  a  good  figure." 

Phil  could  have  hugged  that  salesman.  Here,  at 
least,  was  some  one  who  did  not  intimate  that  he 
was  from  the  country ;  and  yet,  perhaps,  a  good  figure 
was  a  country  product.  He  would  think  about  this, 
as  soon  as  business  was  off  his  mind.  The  salesman 
certainly  fitted  him  to  perfection.  Phil  scarcely 
recognized  himself  when  asked  to  look  in  the  glass. 

"  Don't  think  you  could  do  better,"  said  the  veteran 
salesman,  surveying  Phil  from  rapidly-changing 
points  of  view,  "  if  you  were  to  have  yourself  melted 
and  poured  into  a  suit.  The  tone  of  that  goods  is 
rather  cold,  but  you've  plenty  of  color.  I  think, 
though,  to  set  it  off  to  the  best  advantage  you  need  to 
52 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  53 

change  your  black  tie  for  a  scarf  with  a  touch  of  red 
or  yellow  in  it:  if  you  don't  happen  to  have  one, 
you'll  find  a  fine  assortment  in  our  gents'  furnishing 
department.  Needs  a  somewhat  different  style  of 
shirt-collar,  too  :  let  some  furnishing-goods  man  cast 
his  eye  over  your  neck.  You  always  wear  your  hair 
pretty  long,  I  suppose?— well,  it's  a  pity  it  don't  set  off 
a  man's  clothes  as  well  as  it  sometimes  does  his  fcice." 

Phil  resolved  at  once  to  have  his  hair  cut.  Under 
the  guidance  of  the  salesman  he  had  his  neck-wear 
changed ;  then  the  old  man  said, — 

"Those  low-crowned  straight-brimmed  hats  used 
to  look  exactly  right  with  the  clothes  of  that  season, 
but  somehow  they  don't  harmonize  with  the  cut  of 
this  year.  Hats  are  cheap,  though,  and  there  are  two 
or  three  good  dealers  on  the  other  side  of  the  street, 
a  little  farther  down.  Keep  this  suit  on,  I  suppose? 
All  right,  sir:  I'll  do  up  the  others.  H'm !" — here 
the  old  man  scrutinized  the  material  of  the  coat 
made  by  Sarah  Tweege,— "  that's  splendid  stuff. 
Great  shame  'twas  cut  sack-fashion.  Tliere  isn't 
much  stuff  as  good  as  that  in  swallow-tails  now- 
adays." 

"Couldn't  it— I  suppose  it  couldn't  be  made  over 
into  a  party  coat?" 

"  H'm  !— scarcely,— scarcely,"  said  the  salesman, 
controlling  his  features  as  well  as  if  the  question 
were  the  most  natural  in  the  world.  "Not  enough 
stuff,  you  see ;  too  short ;  sleeves  not  full  enough ; 
button-holes  in  wrong  places ;  lapels  too  narrow. 
Besides,  velvet  collars  have  gone  out.  Any  time  you 
need  a  dress-suit,  though,  we've  got  a  boss  artist  who 
6* 


64  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

can  cut  it  so  as  to  do  you  justice.  'Tisn't  often  he 
gets  a  good  figure  to  spread  himself  on." 

Again  Phil  was  profoundly  grateful :  he  wanted  to 
do  something  for  that  salesman,  and  after  some 
thought  he  astonished  the  old  fellow  by  thanking 
him  for  his  attention  and  promising  to  send  him  a 
barrel  of  selected  Newtown  pippins.  Then  he  placed 
himself  in  the  hands  of  the  boss  artist,  who  studied 
him  as  if  he  were  a  model,  measured  him,  and  asked 
him  if  he  needed  his  dress-suit  at  once. 

"  Yes ;  right  away,"  said  Phil.    "  I  can't  get  it  too 

soon.    I  want "  He  had  begun  to  tell  that  he 

meant  to  dress  himself  in  that  suit  and  practise 
before  a  mirror  until  fully  satisfied  that  he  did  not 
look  unlike  other  men.  The  boss  artist  told  him  to 
return  in  three  days;  then  the  old  salesman,  who 
had  remained  in  attendance,  remarked, — 

"  You  have  a  thin  fall  overcoat,  I  suppose  ?" 

"Oh,  I  won't  need  an  overcoat  for  a  month  yet. 
Why,  there  hasn't  been  a  bit  of  frost  up  our  way." 
Phil  was  already  appalled  by  the  extent  of  his  order. 

"True  enough,"  said  the  salesman,  "but  it  doesn't 
do  to  go  out  in  a  dress-suit  without  an  overcoat,  you 
know,  unless  you're  merely  stepping  from  your  door 
to  a  carriage  ;  and  it's  hardly  the  thing  even  then." 

"  Why,  Judge  Dickman " 

"  Oh,  yes,  those  old  judges,  who  wear  swallow-tails 
day  in  and  day  out,  can  do  it ;  nothing  wrong  about 
it,  of  course, — only  a  matter  of  taste ;  but  a  young 
fellow  don't  like  to  make  himself  conspicuous,  you 
know." 

Phil  meekly  purchased  an  overcoat,  and  hurried 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  55 

away  with  a  heavy  load  on  his  conscience.  More 
than  three-quarters  of  the  hundred  dolhirs  his  futlier 
had  given  him  was  already  gone  or  mortgaged ;  he 
had  meant  to  spend  none  of  it,  except  for  some  things 
which  he  knew  his  mother  craved.  Fortunately,  he 
had  brought  some  savings  of  his  own ;  and,  as  he 
informed  himself,  hair-cutting  was  not  an  expensive 
operation,  and  the  clothing-salesman  had  told  him 
that  new  hats  did  not  cost  much.  He  had  nothing 
else  to  spend  money  for,  except  a  watch-chain ;  liis 
father  had  told  him  to  buy  one.  Indeed,  had  not  his 
father  told  him  to  buy  clothes? — *'  lots  of  them,"  were 
the  old  gentleman's  exact  words.  But  could  his  fatlier 
have  known  about  evening  suits  and  fall  overcoats? 

Phil  continued  in  this  vein  of  thought  after  he  had 
dropped  into  a  barber's  chair,  but  was  startled  out  of 
it  by  finding  a  lather-brush  passing  over  his  face. 
He  struggled,  and  exclaimed, — 

"  I  wanted  my  hair  cut." 

"Yes,  sir,  so  I  heard  you  say;  but  when  shaving 
has  to  be  done  too  we  like  to  have  tliat  out  of  the  way 
first.  But  I  beg  your  pardon,  perhaps  you  were 
raising  a  beard?" 

"  No,"  said  Phil,  settling  himself  again  in  the  chair. 
At  Haynton  young  men  shaved  only  on  Saturday 
nights;  Phil  himself  had  shaved  only  tliree  days 
before,  yet  here  was  another  unexpected  expense 
imposed  upon  him  by  New  York  custom.  Half  an 
hour  afterward  he  emerged  from  that  sliop  witli  the 
not  entirely  satisfactory  assurance  that  his  oldest 
friend  would  not  know  him  at  sight :  and  when  he 
had  bought  a  new  hat  and  surveyed  himself  in  a 


66  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

long  mirror  he  was  not  certain  that  he  would  know 
himself  if  he  were  to  encounter  another  mirror  by 
accident.  The  replacement  of  his  hard-rubber  watch- 
guard  by  a  thin  chain  plated  with  gold  completed 
the  metamorphosis,  aud  a  bootblack  whose  services  he 
declined  set  his  mind  at  rest  by  calling  him  a  dude. 

What  next  to  do  he  scarcely  knew.  An  inclination 
to  go  back  to  the  sloop  and  see  how  Sol  Mantring 
was  getting  along  at  discharging  the  cargo  was  sup- 
pressed by  the  thought  of  what  Sol  and  the  crew 
would  say  if  they  saw  him  in  his  new  suit.  The 
countryman  has  some  grand  qualities  that  denizens 
of  cities  would  do  well  to  imitate,  but  not  all  his 
moral  courage  can  keep  him  from  feeling  uncom- 
fortable when  first  he  displays  himself  in  new  clothes 
to  old  associates.  Country  youths  have  sometimes 
run  away  from  home, — gone  to  sea,  the  city,  the 
devil — anywhere — rather  than  undergo  this  dreadful 
ordeal. 

Suddenly  it  occurred  to  him  that  he  was  not  far 
from  Tramlay's  office  :  he  might  make  a  call,  if  only 
to  show  that  he  could,  with  proper  facilities,  look 
unlike  a  countryman.  Besides,  he  wanted  to  know 
all  about  the  iron  business,  about  which  he  had  seen 
so  many  contradictory  assertions  in  the  newspapers. 

He  entered  the  store  and  walked  back  toward  the 
railed  counting-room  in  which  he  saw  the  head  of 
Haynton's  recent  summer  boarder.  A  clerk  asked 
him  his  business;  he  replied  that  he  had  merely 
dropped  in  to  see  Mr.  Tramlay.  The  head  of  the 
establishment  looked  at  Phil  without  recognition 
when  this  information  was  imparted,  and  advanced 


COUNTRF  LUCK.  57 

with  a  somewhat  impatient  air,  which  suddenly 
changed  to  cordiality  as  he  exclaimed,— 

"Why,  my  dear  fellow  !  excuse  me.  I  didn't  rec- 
ognize you  at  first :  we  can't  all  of  us  have  young 
eyes,  you  know.  Come  in  ;  sit  down ;  make  yourself 
at  home.  I'm  glad  you  dropped  in :  I'm  going  out 
to  lunch  pretty  soon,  and  I  do  hate  to  lunch  alone." 

Pliil  soon  found  himself  coaxed  and  assisted  to  a 
high  oflQce-stool  at  a  desk  by  the  window,  and  all  the 
morning  papers  placed  before  him,  while  Tramlay 
said, — 

"Look  at  the  paper  two  or  three  minutes  while  I 
straighten  out  a  muddle  in  a  customer's  letter  ;  then 
we'll  go  out." 

Phil  took  up  a  paper  ;  the  advertising  page — which 
happened  to  be  the  first — was  very  interesting,  never- 
theless Phil's  eyes  wandered,  for  his  mind  was  just 
then  curious  about  the  iron  trade.  He  looked  around 
him  for  indications  of  the  business ;  but  the  only  bit 
of  iron  in  sight  was  a  paper-weight  on  the  desk 
before  him.  Closer  scrutiny  was  rewarded  by  the 
discovery  of  a  bit  of  angle-iron,  a  few  inches  long, 
lying  on  a  window-sill.  In  the  mean  time  the  pro- 
prietor had  scribbled  a  few  lines,  assorted  some 
papers,  and  closed  his  desk  by  drawing  down  the  top. 
Then  he  said, — 

*'  Now  let's  go  in  search  of  peace  and  comfort." 

"  I  shouldn't  think  you'd  have  to  leave  your  office 
for  that,"  said  Phil,  who  had  found  the  counting- 
room  greatly  unlike  what  he  had  expected. 

**  There's  no  peace  where  business  is  going  on," 
Tramlay  replied;  "although   I  don't  know,  after 


58  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

careful  thought,  of  any  noisier  place  than  a  New 
York  restaurant.    Here  we  are.    Come  in." 

Phil  found  himself  in  one  of  the  very  large  and 
noisy  places  where  New  York  business-men  herd 
about  noonday.  Phil  protested,  in  the  usual  rural 
manner,  that  he  was  not  at  all  hungry,  but  Tramlay 
ordered  so  skilfully  that  both  were  duly  occupied 
for  an  hour.  Phil  found  his  host  attentive,  yet  occa- 
sionally absent-minded.  He  might  have  spared  him- 
self the  trouble  of  making  a  mental  memorandum 
to  study  out  the  why  and  wherefore  of  this  apparently 
Incongruous  pair  of  qualities  had  he  known  that 
Tramlay  was  cudgelling  his  brain  to  know  how  to 
dispose  of  his  rural  visitor  after  dinner,  without  of- 
fending. While  they  were  sipping  the  coffee, — a 
beverage  which  Phil  had  never  before  tasted  in  the 
middle  of  the  day,— Mr.  Marge  lounged  up  to  them, 
looking  exactly  as  intelligent,  listless,  and  unchange- 
able as  the  night  before. 

**  How  are  you.  Marge  ?"  said  Tramlay.  Phil  after- 
ward wondered  that  his  host  could  smile  so  genially 
on  so  cold  a  person. 

"  As  usual,"  replied  Marge,  with  a  slight  inclination 
of  the  head.  "  Good-morning,  Mr.  Hayn.  Don't  let 
me  interrupt  conversation.  I  merely  meant  to  say 
I've  nothing  to  do  this  afternoon,  and  would  be  glad 
to  show  Mr.  Hayn  about  town  a  littlo,  if  he  likes." 

"  That's  ever  so  good  of  you,"  said  Tramlay ;  ''  for 
the  truth  is,  I  was  wondering  how  I  could  find  time 
to  do  it  myself,  and  fearing  I  couldn't." 

"Entirely  at  his  service,"  said  Marge,  as  lifelessly 
as  an  automaton. 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  59 

**  And  both  come  and  dine  with  me  this  evening," 
suggested  Tramhxy  :  "entirely  informal,  you  know." 

"  I  should  be  delighted,"  said  Marge,  in  his  un- 
varying manner. 

Tramlay  hurried  to  his  office,  after  tlie  briefest  of 
leave-takings,  and  Marge  began  to  conduct  Phil  about 
New  York.  Soon,  however,  there  developed  a  marked 
difference  of  taste  between  visitor  and  guide.  Marge 
wanted  to  show  the  young  man  the  Stock  Exchange, 
which  to  the  many  minds  composing  a  very  large 
class  has  no  rival  attraction  except  the  various  in- 
stitutions on  Blackwell's  Island  ;  Phil  exhibited  ab- 
ject ignorance  and  indifference  regarding  the  Stock 
Exchange,  but  wanted  to  go  through  the  Sub-Treas- 
ury and  Assay  Office, — two  buildings  in  which 
Marge  had  never  been.  Marge  made  a  special  trip 
to  show  the  young  man  the  outside  of  Jay  Gould's 
office,  but  Phil  identified  Trinity  Church  from  pic- 
tures he  had  seen,  and  wanted  to  make  a  patriotic 
tour  of  the  tombs  of  distinguished  men  of  the  Revolu- 
tionary period.  Marge  offered  to  introduce  Phil  to 
Russell  Sage,  but  was  amazed  to  learn  that  the  young 
man  had  never  heard  of  that  distinguished  individ- 
ual. When,  however.  General  Hancock,  passing  by, 
was  casually  pointed  out  by  Marge,  Phil  stopped 
short  and  stared  respectfully.  Marge  showed  the 
Field  Building,  but  through  the  trees  in  front  Phil 
correctly  surmised  he  saw  Castle  Garden,  and  desired 
at  once  to  go  there  and  be  made  acquainted  with  the 
method  of  receiving  and  distributing  immigrants. 
On  the  Produce  Exchange  they  fairly  agreed.  Marge 
admitting  that  in  importance  it  ranked  next  to  the 


60  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Stock  Exchange,  while  Phil  was  able  to  regard  it  as 
a  great  business  necessity.  Pretending  to  search,  by 
Pliil's  request,  for  tlie  building  in  which  Washington 
bade  farewell  to  his  generals,  Marge  succeeded  in 
getting  baclt  tlirough  Broad  Street  to  the  vicinity  of 
the  Stock  Exchange,  where  he  tried  to  atone  for  his 
failure  by  pointing  out  through  a  window  the  head 
of  Mr.  Henry  Clews  ;  but  Phil  had  no  eyes  except  for 
the  statue  of  Washington,  standing,  as  he  knew,  on 
the  site  of  the  first  President's  first  inaugural.  Tlie 
two  men  exhibited  equal  interest,  on  half  a  dozen 
successive  occasions,  in  "  stock-tickers,"  which  Marge 
seemed  to  know  how  to  find  in  all  sorts  of  places; 
but,  while  Marge  looked  over  the  quotations  on  the 
tape,  Phil  studied  the  machinery  of  the  indicator 
itself. 

The  strain  upon  Marge  became  almost  too  great  for 
his  self-control,  and  he  breathed  a  sigh  of  relief  when 
Trinity's  clock  struck  three.  To  have  left  the  vicin- 
ity of  the  Stock  Exchange  earlier  would  never  have 
occurred  to  him,  but  promptly  on  the  stroke  he  hur- 
ried Phil  to  an  elevated-railway  station  and  up- 
town to  a  stable,  where  he  had  his  horse  and  wagon 
brought  out  and  took  Phil  for  a  drive  in  Central 
Park.  Probably  there  he  thought  he  could  be  enter- 
tained after  his  own  manner,  for  he  had  the  reins. 
Driving  out  Fifth  Avenue,  the  two  men  really  be- 
came congenial  for  a  little  while,  for  Phil  understood 
horses,  and  Marge's  horse  was  a  good  one,  and  Phil 
admired  him  and  knew  of  a  good  horse  that  would 
match  him  nicely,  and  Marge  saw  a  prospect  of 
making  a  team  that  he  could  sell  at  a  large  profit, 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  61 

and  Phil  prornlHcd  to  arrange  that  Marge  Bhould 
come  out  and  hcc  the  horae.  But  even  tliis  conver- 
Bation  was  broken  when  Marge  pointed  out  the  late 
residence  of  A.  T.  Stewart,  for  Phil  insisted  upon 
moralizing  on  riches.  In  the  Park  he  a«ked  ques- 
tions about  statues,  and  about  trees  and  shruljs  tliat 
were  new  to  him  and  equally  unknown  to  Marge,  as 
well  as  utterly  uninteresting;  Phil  also  wanted  a 
number  of  facts  and  figures  about  the  Reservoir  in 
the  Park,  and  was  with  difficulty  restrained  from 
spoiling  the  drive  by  visiting  the  menagerie.  Finally, 
when  he  demanded  the  exact  sites  of  the  various  en- 
gagements on  Manhattan  Island  between  the  British 
and  Washingt^jn,  after  the  latter  had  been  forced  to 
evacuate  what  then  was  New  York,  Marge  abruptly 
turned  and  drove  homeward,  confessing  without  the 
faintest  show  of  shame,  but  rather  with  defiance, 
that  he  knew  absolutely  nothing  about  those  times. 
And  when  the  drive  ended  and  the  couple  separated, 
the  elder  man's  face  broke  from  its  customary  calm 
as  he  muttered  to  hiiaself,— 
*♦  What  can  Tramlay  want  of  that  fellow?" 


CHAPTER   VII. 

AT  HER  SIDE. 

The  arrangement  of  the  guests  at  the  dinner-table 
that  evening  suited  all  concerned.  Phil  sat  at  the 
right  of  the  host,  with  Lucia  directly  opposite,  where 
her  face  was  before  him  all  tlie  while.  Marge  sat  at 
the  right  of  the  hostess,  where  he  could  closely  ob- 
serve the  young  man  from  the  country,  and,  not  less 
important,  Tramlay's  manner  toward  the  younger 
guest.  He  could  also  note  the  effect  of  the  young 
man  and  his  ways  upon  Mrs.  Tramlay ;  for  did  he 
not  know  how  to  translate  every  expression  of  her 
face  ?  It  was  his  own  fault  if  he  did  not,  for  he  had 
been  one  of  her  suitors  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  century 
before,  and  the  lady  had  never  ceased  to  be  mildly 
grateful  for  this  compliment,  and  to  repose  as  much 
confidence  in  him  as  a  loyal  wife  might  without 
harm  grant  an  acquaintance  who  never  had  been 
offensive. 

That  Mrs.  Tramlay  wanted  Lucia  to  become 
Mrs.  Marge  was  one  of  these  confidences, — not 
spoken,  but  none  the  less  distinctly  understood, — 
and  it  had  taken  all  of  Marge's  adroitness  to  main- 
tain his  position  with  the  family,  since  Lucia's 
"coming  out,"  to  avoid  being  brought  to  propose. 
Several  years  earUer  he  had  fully  intended  to  make 
62 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  63 

Lucia  his  own  when  she  should  reach  marriageable 
age,  and  many  and  acceptable  had  been  the  atten- 
tions by  which  he  had  endeavored  to  secure  the  first 
place  in  the  girl's  regard.  But  somehow  as  his  pros- 
pects gradually  yet  distinctly  brightened,  the  profits 
of  the  iron  trade  as  gradually  and  distinctly  waned ; 
Marge  was  not  in  the  iron  trade  himself,  but  Lucia's 
father  was,  and  bachelors  at  forty-five  generally  ex- 
pect something  with  a  bride  besides  a  father's  bless- 
ing. What  the  girl's  father  thought  of  him  Marge  had 
never  taken  time  to  wonder ;  for  if  he  was  satisfactory 
to  his  fastidious  self,  how  could  he  be  otherwise  to  a 
plodding  family  man  ?  His  social  position  was  good ; 
his  name  had  never  been  part  of  a  scandal ;  he  had  no 
debts ;  he  never  borrowed  money ;  and,  although  a 
club  man,  no  one  had  ever  seen  him  drunk,  or  heard 
of  his  being  fond  of  actresses.  If  all  this  did  not  make 
a  man  not  merely  irreproachable,  but  highly  desirable 
as  a  son-in-law,  what  did  parents  expect  ? 

The  arrangement  of  seats  at  the  table  suited  Lucia 
also.  She  knew  her  mother's  matrimonial  inten- 
tions regarding  her.  Slie  was  not  in  love  with  Marge, 
but  girls  in  her  set  did  not  think  it  good  form  to  be 
very  fond  of  men  whom  they  probably  would  have 
to  marry.  If,  however,  Marge  meant  business,  she 
wished  he  would  be  more  attentive  to  it.  She  felt 
that  she  was  missing  a  great  deal  of  pleasure  for 
lack  of  proper  escort.  Twice  in  the  course  of  the 
last  season  Marge  had  taken  her  and  her  mother  to 
the  opera ;  Lucia  adored  opera, — that  is,  she  liked  to 
look  about  the  house,  and  see  who  was  with  who, 
and  how  the  prima  donna  dressed,  and  to  have  gen- 


64  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

tlemen  call  at  her  box  between  acts,— but  two  operas 
were  merely  sips  at  a  cup  she  louged  to  drain,  and 
only  once  had  she  been  able  to  persuade  her  father 
to  mitigate  the  privation.  If  apparent  interest  in 
Phil  at  table  could  have  any  effect  upon  Marge's 
languid  purpose,  the  provoking  fellow  should  not 
lack  stimulus.  To  have  to  devote  herself  for  a  whole 
hour  to  one  young  man,  in  the  long  hair  and  country 
garb  which  regained  their  awkwardness  in  her 
mind's  eye  when  her  father  announced  that  Phil  was 
coming  to  dinner,  seemed  a  hard  task ;  but  when  the 
young  man  made  his  appearance  Lucia  was  so  agree- 
ably surprised  that  what  had  seemed  a  task  at  once 
became  by  anticipation  a  positive  pleasure. 

The  evening  soon  opened  promisingly  for  Marge, 
for  Phil  took  soup  a  second  time, — a  proceeding 
which  inflicted  upon  Mrs.  Tramlay  several  moments 
of  uncontrolled  annoyance  and  caused  profound  si- 
lence around  the  table.  But  Lucia  rapidly  recovered ; 
desperate  cases  required  desperate  remedies ;  so  she 
said, — 

"Phil,  do  you  remember  that  dinner  you  once 
made  us  in  the  grove  by  the  beach?" 

"Indeed  I  do,"  said  Phil.  "I  never  shall  forget 
it."  And  he  told  the  truth ;  for  Lucia's  look  of 
horror  when  he  brought  from  the  fire  a  piece  of 
board  piled  high  with  roasted  clams  had  been  one  of 
the  few  great  mental  dampers  of  his  life. 

*' You  made  us  forks  from  dried  twigs,"  said  Lucia. 
"I  kept  mine  as  a  memento;  it  is  hanging  over 
my  mantel  now,  with  a  bow  of  blue  ribbon  around 
it> 


COUNTRY  LUCK,  65 

Marge  frowned  perceptibly ;  Mrs.  Tramlay  looked 
horrified ;  but  Phil's  face  lightened  so  quickly  that 
Lucia's  little  heart  gave  a  gay  bound. 

**  Why  didn't  you  ever  give  a  clam-bake  on  Sunday, 
—the  only  day  I  could  be  there?"  asked  Tramlay. 
"  I'd  give  more  for  such  a  meal  out  of  doors  than  for 
the  best  dinner  that  Delmonico  could  spread." 

**  Edgar  !"  gasped  Mrs.  Tramlay.  It  did  not  reach 
him,  tliough  the  look  that  accompanied  it  passed  in 
its  full  force  from  the  foot  of  the  table  to  the  head. 

**Why,  Sunday,"  said  Phil,  with  some  hesitation, 
— "Sunday  is — Sunday." 

"  Quite  true,"  said  the  host.  "  It  is  in  the  country, 
at  least ;  I  wish  'twas  so  here." 

*' Edgar,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  *' don't  make  Mr. 
Hayn  think  we  are  heathens.  You  know  we  never 
fail  to  go  to  service  on  Sunday." 

."  Yes,"  said  Tramlay  ;  "  we're  as  good  Pharisees  as 
any  other  family  in  New  York." 

*•  And  after  that  dinner  in  the  woods,"  continued 
Lucia,  *'  we  went  for  pond-lilies :  don't  you  remem- 
ber? I  do  believe  I  should  have  been  drowned  in 
that  awful  pond  if  you  hadn't  caught  me." 

Again  Marge's  brows  gathered  perceptibly. 

"  He  merely  drew  her  aside  from  a  muddy  place," 
whispered  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

"  Well,  this  is  interesting,"  said  Tramlay,  at  the 
other  end  of  the  table.  "Hayn,  are  there  many 
places  out  your  way  where  silly  girls  are  likely  to  be 
drowned  if  they  are  allowed  to  roam  about  without 
a  keeper?" 

•'  Quite  a  number,"  said  Phil,  as  seriously  as  if  his 
0  6* 


66  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

host  expected  a  list  of  the  Hayntou  ponds  and  their 
relative  depths.  "For  instance,  Boddybanks  Pond 
is  about " 

"  Oh,  that  was  the  pond  where  we  went  canoeing, 
— that  pond  with  the  funny  name  !  My  !  I  wish  I 
was  in  that  very  canoe,  on  that  very  pond,  this  very 
minute." 

**  Lucia  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

"I  know  'twas  dreadfully  impolite  to  say  before 
company,"  said  Lucia,  with  a  pretty  affectation  of 
penitence,  "but  everybody  knows  I  can't  be  there, 
and  that  'twould  be  too  cold  for  comfort ;  so  it  doesn't 
do  any  harm  to  wish  it.  And  I  should  like  that 
canoe-trip  over  again  :  shouldn't  you,  Phil?" 

"I  certainly  should,"  said  Phil.  "That  pond  is 
very  pretty  in  summer,  when  everything  around  it 
is  green.  There  are  a  great  many  shades  of  green 
there,  on  account  of  there  being  a  great  variety  of 
trees  and  bushes.  But  you  wouldn't  know  the  place 
at  this  season  ;  and  I  think  it's  a  great  deal  prettier. 
The  ground — the  water,  too — is  covered  with  leaves 
of  bright  colors  ;  there  are  a  lot  of  blazing  red  swamp 
maples  around  it,  in  spots,  and  three  or  four  cedar- 
trees,  with  poison-ivy  vines " 

"Ugh  !"  ejaculated  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

"Poison-ivy  leaves,  you  know,  are  the  clearest 
crimson  in  the  fall,"  Phil  continued,  "and  they're 
so  large  and  grow  so  close  together  that  they  make  a 
bit  of  woods  look  like  a  splendid  sunset.'^ 

"  Oh,  papa  !"  exclaimed  Lucia,  clapping  her  hands, 
"  let*s  go  out  to  Haynton  to-morrow,  just  for  two  or 
three  days." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  67 

"Lucia,"  said  her  mother,  severely,  "you  forget 
all  your  engagements  for  the  next  few  days." 

"Her  father's  own  child,"  said  Tramlay.  "She 
forgets  everything  but  the  subject  before  her.  She 
would  make  a  good  business-man— if  she  weren't  a 
girl." 

"  I  saw  some  couples  out  canoeing  at  Mount  Desert, 
last  season,"  drawled  Marge.  "  It  seemed  to  me  dread- 
fully dangerous,  as  well  as  very  uncomfortable  for 
the  lady." 

"Oh,  our  canoe  wasn't  one  of  those  wretched  little 
things ;  was  it,  Phil  ?  'Twas  a  great  long  pond-boat, 
made  of  beech  bark " 

"Birch,"  suggested  Phil. 

"Birch  bark,  and  so  heavy  that  I  couldn't  upset 
it,  though  I  tried  my  hardest." 

"Lucia  !"  The  voice  was  Mrs.  Tramlay's,  of  course. 

"Why,  mamma,  the  water  wasn't  knee-deep;  I 
measured  it  with  tlie  paddle." 

Mrs.  Tramlay  sank  back  in  her  chair,  and  whis- 
pered that  if  the  family  ever  went  to  the  country 
again  she  would  not  dare  leave  that  child  out  of  her 
sight  for  a  single  instant,  but  she  had  hoped  that  a 
girl  twenty  years  of  age  would  have  enough  sense 
not  to  imperil  her  own  life.  As  for  that  farmer  fellow, 
she  had  supposed  he  was  sensible  enough  to 

"  You  wouldn't  have  tried  that  trick  if  I  had  been 
in  the  canoe,  Miss  Tramlay,"  said  Phil. 

"Why  not?"  asked  Lucia :  she  knew  how  to  look 
defiant  without  ceasing  to  be  pretty. 

"Well,  I  would  have  been  responsible  for  you,  you 
know,  —your  instructor  in  navigation,  so  to  speak ; 


68  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

and  it's  one  of  the  first  principles  of  that  art  hot  to 
talve  any  risk  unless  something's  to  be  gained  by  it." 

"  Good  !"  exclaimed  Tramlay. 

"Not  bad,"  assented  Marge. 

"But  I'd  have  got  something  if  I'd  succeeded  in 
upsetting  the  boat,"  said  Lucia:  "I'd  have  got  a 
ducking." 

Then  everybody  laughed, — everybody  but  Mrs. 
Tramlay,  who  intimated  to  Marge  that  Lucia  was 
simply  being  ruined  by  her  father's  indulgence. 

The  dinner  ended,  the  host  and  Marge  retired  to 
the  library  to  smoke.  Phil  was  invited  to  accompany 
them,  but  Lucia  exclaimed, — 

"  Phil  has  been  too  well  brought  up  to  have  such 
bad  habits.  He  is  going  to  keep  me  from  feeling 
stupid,  as  ladies  always  do  while  gentlemen  smoke 
after  dinner." 

She  took  Phil's  arm  and  led  him  to  the  drawing- 
room,  where  the  young  man  soon  showed  signs  of 
being  more  interested  in  the  pictures  on  the  wall 
than  in  the  girl  by  his  side. 

"These  are  very  different  from  the  pictures  you 
used  to  see  in  our  little  parlor  in  Haynton,"  said 
Phil.     "  Different  from  any  in  our  town,  in  fact." 

"Are  they?"  said  Lucia.  "But  you  might  be 
loyal  to  home,  and  insist  that  yours  were  unlike  any 
in  New  York  ;  because  they  were,  you  know." 

"I  didn't  suppose  they  were  anything  unusual," 
said  Phil,  quite  innocently. 

"Oh,  they  were,  though,"  insisted  Lucia,  with 
much  earnestness.  "  I'm  sure  you  couldn't  find  one 
of  them  in  any  parlor  in  New  York.    Let  me  see :  I 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  69 

do  believe  I  could  name  thorn  all,  if  I  were  to  close 
my  eyes  a  moment.  There  was  *  General  Taylor  at 
the  Battle  of  Buena  Vista,'  'The  Destruction  of  Je- 
rusalem,' the  *  Declaration  of  Independence,'  'Napo- 
leon's Tomb  at  St.  Helena,'  '  Rock  of  Ages,'  '  George 
Washington,'  Peale's  'Court  of  Death,'  'Abraham 
Lincoln  and  his  Family,'  and  'Rum's  Deadly  Upas- 
Tree.'    There !" 

"  Your  memory  is  remarkable,"  said  Phil.  "  I 
didn't  suppose  any  one  had  even  noticed  our  pictures 
at  all ;  for  I'm  sure  they  are  old-fashioned." 

"Old-fashioned  things,  —  why,  they're  all  the 
fashion  now,  don't  you  know?"  said  Lucia,  with  a 
pretty  laugh. 

Phil  did  not  reply,  for  he  was  quite  overpowered 
by  what  seemed  to  him  the  elegance  of  the  Tramlay 
pictures.  He  could  easily  see  that  the  engravings 
were  superior  in  quality  to  those  to  which  he  was  ac- 
customed ;  he  was  most  profoundly  impressed  by  the 
paintings, — real  oil  paintings,  signed  by  artists  some 
of  whose  names  he  had  seen  in  art-reviews  in  New 
York  papers.  He  studied  them  closely,  one  aft^r 
another,  with  the  earnestness  of  the  person  whose 
tastes  are  in  advance  of  his  opportunities:  in  his 
interest  he  was  almost  forgetful  of  Lucia's  presence. 
But  the  young  woman  did  not  intend  to  be  forgotten, 
BO  she  found  something  to  say  about  each  picture 
over  which  Phil  lingered. 

Among  the  paintings  was  one  which  had  been  seen, 
in  the  original  or  replicas,  in  almost  all  the  picture- 
auctions  which  were  frequently  held  in  the  New 
York  business-district  for  the  purpose  of  fleecing  men 


70  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

who  have  more  money  than  taste.  Sometimes  the 
artist's  name  is  German,  oftener  French,  and  occa- 
sionally Italian ;  the  figures  and  background  also 
differ  from  time  to  time  as  to  the  nationality,  and  the 
picture  is  variably  named  "The  Parting,"  "Good-By," 
♦♦Auf  Wiedersehen,"  "Good-Night,"  or  "Adieu," 
but  the  canvases  all  resemble  one  another  in  display- 
ing a  young  man  respectfully  kissing  the  hand  of  a 
young  woman.  The  Tramlays'  copy  of  this  auction- 
eer's stand-by  was  called  "Adieu,"  the  name  being 
lettered  in  black  on  the  margin  of  the  frame. 

"Why,"  exclaimed  Phil,  with  the  air  of  a  man  in 
the  act  of  making  a  discovery,  "I  am  sure  I  have 
seen  a  wood  engraving  of  that  painting  in  one  of  the 
illustrated  papers." 

"I  don't  see  why  they  should  do  it,"  said  Lucia  ; 
"it's  dreadfully  old-fashioned.  People  don't  say 
*  adieu'  in  that  way  nowadays,  except  on  the  stage." 

"  I  thought  you  said  a  moment  ago  that  old-fash- 
ioned things  were  all  the  fashion." 

Lucia  shrugged  her  shoulders,  and  said,  "  Kissing 
hands  may  come  in  again."  Then  she  raised  one  of 
her  own  little  hands  slightly  and  looked  at  it ;  Phil's 
eyes  followed  hers,  and  then  the  young  man  became 
conscious  of  a  wish  that  the  old  form  of  salutation 
might  be  revived,  on  special  occasions,  at  least.  The 
thought  succeeded  that  such  a  wish  was  not  entirely 
proper,  and  while  he  reasoned  about  it  Lucia  caught 
his  eye  and  compelled  him  to  blush, — an  act  which 
the  young  woman  perhaps  thought  pretty,  for  she 
immediately  imitated  it,  the  imitation  being  much 
more  graceful  and  effective  than  the  original.    The 


.COUNTRY  LUCK,  71 

situation  was  awkward,  and  Phil  instantly  lost  his 
self-possession  ;  but  not  so  Lucia. 

"Here,"  she  said,  turning  so  as  to  face  the  wall 
opposite  that  on  which  the  mischief-making  picture 
hung,  "is  papa's  favorite  picture.  He  thinks  every- 
thing of  it ;  but  I  say  it's  simply  dreadful." 

It  certainly  was.  The  centre  of  the  canvas,  which 
was  enormous,  was  filled  with  several  columns  and  a 
portion  of  the  entablature  of  a  ruined  Greek  temple. 

"It  is  as  large  as  all  the  other  pictures  combined, 
you  see ;  all  the  lines  in  it  are  straight,  and  there 
isn't  anywhere  in  it  a  dress,  or  a  bit  of  furniture,  or 
even  bric-^-brac." 

Phil  imagined  his  host  must  have  seen  other  qual- 
ities than  those  named  by  Lucia,  and  he  seated  him- 
self on  a  sofa  to  study  the  picture  in  detail.  Lucia 
also  sat  down,  and  continued  : 

*'  There  is  color  in  it,  to  be  sure  ;  bits  of  the  columns 
where  the  light  is  most  subdued  are  as  lovely  as — as 
a  real  Turkish  rug." 

Much  though  Phil  had  endeavored  to  keep  himself 
in  communication  and  sympathy  with  the  stronger 
sentiments  of  the  world  outside  of  Haynton,  he  had 
never  realized  even  the  outer  edge  of  the  mysteries 
and  ecstasies  of  adoration  of  old  rugs.  So  Lucia's 
comparison  started  him  into  laughter.  The  girl 
seemed  surprised  and  offended,  and  Phil  immediately 
tumbled  into  the  extreme  depths  of  contrition. 

**  I  beg  your  pardon,"  he  murmured,  quickly.  *'  It 
was  all  because  of  my  ignorance.  We  haven't  any 
Turkish  rugs  at  Haynton,  nor  any  other  rugs,  ex- 
pect those  we  lay  on  floors  and  use  very  much  as  if 


72  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

they  were  carpets.  I  ought  to  have  known  better, 
though  ;  for  I  remember  that  in  Eastern  stories, 
where  the  rare  possessions  of  Oriental  kings  and 
chiefs  are  spoken  of,  rugs  are  always  classed  with 
jewels  and  silks  and  other  beautiful  things.  Please 
forgive  me." 

Half  in  earnest,  half  pretending,  Lucia  continued 
to  appear  offended.  Phil  repeated  his  confession, 
and  enlarged  his  explanation.  In  his  earnestness 
he  leaned  toward  her ;  Lucia  dropped  her  head  a 
little.  Marge,  who  had  finished  his  cigar,  entered 
the  parlor  at  that  instant,  and  raised  his  eyebrows, — 
a  motion  more  significant  in  a  man  of  his  tempera- 
ment than  a  tragic  start  would  have  been  to  ordi- 
nary flesh  and  blood.  Lucia  started  and  showed 
signs  of  embarrassment  when  she  could  no  longer 
ignore  his  presence ;  Phil  merely  looked  up,  with- 
out seeming  at  all  discomposed. 

"  I  think,  my  dear,"  said  Tramlay  to  his  wife,  who 
had  been  turning  the  backs  of  a  magazine,  "that 
I'll  take  our  friend  around  to  the  club  with  me  for 
half  an  hour,  just  to  show  him  how  city  men  squan- 
der their  time  and  keep  away  from  their  families.  I 
won't  be  long  gone." 

"Oh,  papa!  right  after  dinner?  We've  scarcely 
seen  Phil  yet,  to  ask  him  any  questions." 

"Plenty  of  time  for  that,"  the  merchant  replied. 
"We'll  see  him  often  :  eh,  Hayn  ?" 

"I  shall  be  delighted,"  said  Phil. 

"  Suppose  you  drop  him  at  my  club,  on  your  way 
home?"  suggested  Marge.     "  I  shall  be  there." 

"  Good !  thanks  ;  very  kind  of  you.    He'll  see  some 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  73 

men   nearer   his  own   age :   all  our   members  are 
middle-aged  and  stupid." 

*'  I  think  it's  real  mean  of  you  both,"  said  Lucia, 
witli  a  pretty  pout. 

Phil  looked  as  if  he  thought  so  too.  At  Haynton 
it  was  the  custom,  when  one  went  out  to  dinner, — 
or  supper,  which  was  the  evening  meal,— to  spend 
the  evening  with  the  entertainer.  But  objection 
seemed  out  of  place :  the  merchant  had  gone  for  his 
hat  and  coat,  and  Marge  made  his  adieus  and  was 
donning  his  overcoat  at  the  mirror  in  the  hall. 

"I'm  very  sorry  to  go,"  said  Phil  to  Lucia.  His 
eyes  wandered  about  the  room,  as  if  to  take  a  dis- 
tinct picture  of  it  with  him :  they  finally  rested  on 
the  picture  of  '*  The  Adieu." 

"You  shall  take  my  forgiveness  with  you,"  said 
the  girl,  "  if  you  will  solemnly  promise  never,  never 
to  laugh  at  me  again." 

"I  never  will,"  said  Phil,  solemnly;  then  Lucia 
laughed  and  offered  him  her  hand.  Perhaps  it  was 
because  Phil  had  just  removed  his  eyes  from  "The 
Adieu"  and  was  himself  about  to  say  good-by,  that 
lie  raised  the  little  hand  to  his  lip.  Fortunately  for 
her  own  peace  of  mind,  Mrs.  Tramlay  did  not  see 
the  act,  for  she  had  stepped  into  the  library  to  speak 
to  her  husband ;  Marge,  however,  was  amazed  at 
what  he  saw  in  the  mirror,  and,  a  second  or  two 
later,  at  Phil's  entire  composure.  Lucia's  manner, 
however,  puzzled  him;  for  she  seemed  somewhat 
disconcerted,  and  her  complexion  had  suddenly  be- 
come more  brilliant  than  usual. 
D  7 


CHAPTER   VIII. 


HIMSELF  FOR  COMPANY. 


For  years  Philip  Hayn  had  been  wondering  about 
the  great  city  only  a  hundred  or  two  miles  distant 
from  his  home, — wondering,  reading,  and  question- 
ing,— until  he  knew  far  more  about  it  than  thousands 
of  men  born  and  reared  on  Manhattan  Island.  He 
had  dreamed  of  the  day  when  he  would  visit  the 
city,  and  had  formed  plans  and  itineraries  for  con- 
suming such  time  as  he  hoped  to  have,  changing 
them  again  and  again  to  conform  to  longer  or  shorter 
periods.  He  was  prepared  to  be  an  intelligent  tour- 
ist, to  see  only  what  was  well  worth  being  looked  at, 
and  to  study  much  that  could  not  be  seen  in  any  other 
place  which  he  was  ever  likely  to  visit. 

At  last  he  was  in  New  York :  his  time  would  be 
limited  only  by  the  expense  of  remaining  at  hotel  or 
boarding-house.  Yet  he  found  himself  utterly  with- 
out impulse  to  follow  any  of  his  carefully-perfected 
plans.  He  strolled  about  a  great  deal,  but  in  an 
utterly  aimless  way.  He  passed  public  buildings 
which  he  knew  by  sight  as  among  those  he  had  in- 
tended to  inspect,  but  he  did  not  even  enter  their 
doors ;  the  great  libraries  in  which  for  years  he  had 
hoped  to  quench  the  literary  thirst  that  had  been 
little  more  than  tantalized  by  the  collective  books  iu 
74 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  75 

Haynton  were  regarded  with  impatience.  Of  all  he 
saw  while  rambling  about  alone,  nothing  really  fixed 
his  attention  but  the  contents  of  shop-windows.  He 
could  not  pass  a  clothing-store  without  wondering  if 
some  of  the  goods  he  saw  within  would  not  become 
him  better  than  what  he  was  wearing ;  he  spent 
hours  in  looking  at  displays  of  dress-goods  and  im- 
agining how  one  or  other  pattern  or  fabric  would 
look  on  Lucia ;  and  he  wasted  many  hours  more  in 
day-dreams  of  purchasing — only  for  her — the  bits  of 
jewelry  and  other  ornaments  with  which  some  win- 
dows were  filled. 

Loneliness  increased  the  weakening  effect  of  his 
imaginings.  He  knew  absolutely  no  one  in  the  city 
but  the  Tramlays  and  Marge,  and  he  had  too  much 
sense  to  impose  himself  upon  tliem ;  besides,  Marge 
was  terribly  uninteresting  to  him,  except  as  material 
for  a  study  of  human  nature, — material  that  was 
peculiarly  unattractive  when  such  a  specimen  as 
Lucia  was  always  in  his  mind's  eye  and  insisting 
upon  occupying  his  whole  attention. 

His  loneliness  soon  became  intolerable ;  after  a 
single  day  of  it  he  hurried  to  the  river,  regardless 
of  probable  criticism  and  teasing  based  on  his  new 
clothes,  to  chat  with  Sol  Mantring  and  the  crew  of 
the  sloop.  The  interview  was  not  entirely  satisfac- 
tory, and  Phil  cut  his  visit  short,  departing  with  a 
brow  full  of  wrinkles  and  a  heart  full  of  wonder  and 
indignation  at  the  persistency  with  which  Sol  and 
both  his  men  talked  of  Lucia  Tramlay  and  the  regard 
in  which  they  assumed  Pliil  held  her.  How  should 
they  imagine  such  a  thing?    He  well  knew— and 


76  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

detested — the  rural  rage  for  prying  into  the  affairs 
of  people,  particularly  young  men  and  women  who 
seemed  at  all  fond  of  one  another  ;  but  what  had  he 
ever  done  or  said  to  make  these  rough  fellows  think 
Lucia  was  to  him  anything  but  a  boarder  in  his 
father's  house?  As  he  wondered,  there  came  to  his 
mind  a  line  which  he  had  often  painfully  followed  in 
his  copy-book  at  school:  "The  face  of  youth  is  an 
open  book."  It  did  not  tend  at  all  to  restore  com- 
posure to  his  own  face. 

Hour  by  hour  he  found  himself  worse  company. 
He  had  never  before  made  such  a  discovery.  There 
had  been  hundreds  and  thousands  of  days  in  his  life 
when  from  dawn  to  dark  he  had  been  alone  on  the 
farm,  in  the  woods,  or  in  his  fishing-boat,  several 
miles  off  shore  on  the  ocean ;  yet  the  companionship 
of  his  thoughts  had  been  satisfactory.  He  had  sung 
and  whistled  by  the  hour,  recited  to  himself  favorite 
bits  of  poetry  and  prose,  rehearsed  old  stories  and 
jokes,  and  enjoyed  himself  so  well  that  sometimes  he 
was  annoyed  rather  than  pleased  when  an  acquaint- 
ance would  appear  and  insist  on  diverting  his  atten- 
tion to  some  trivial  personal  or  business  affair.  Why 
could  he  not  cheer  himself  now? — he  who  always 
had  been  the  life  and  cheer  of  whatever  society  he 
found  himself  in? 

He  tried  to  change  the  current  of  his  thoughts  by 
looking  at  other  people  ;  but  the  result  was  dismal  in 
the  extreme.  He  lounged  about  Broadway,  strolled 
in  Central  Park,  walked  down  Fifth  Avenue,  and 
from  most  that  he  saw  he  assumed  that  everybody 
who  was  having  a  pleasant  time,  driving  fine  horses, 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  77 

or  living  in  a  handsome  house,  was  rich.  He  had 
been  carefully  trained  in  the  belief  that  "a  man's 
life  consisteth  not  in  the  abundance  of  the  things 
which  he  possesseth,"  but  his  observations  of  New 
York  were  severely  straining  his  faith.  He  was  en- 
tirely orthodox  in  his  belief  as  to  the  prime  source 
of  riches,  but  he  suddenly  became  conscious  of  an 
unliappy,  persistent  questioning  as  to  why  he  also 
had  not  been  born  rich,  or  had  riches  thrust  upon 
him.  He  understood  now  the  mad  strife  for  wealth 
which  he  had  often  heard  alluded  to  as  the  prevail- 
ing sin  of  large  cities;  he  wished  he  knew  how  to 
strive  for  it  himself, — anywhere,  in  any  way,  if  only 
he  might  always  be  one  of  the  thousands  of  people 
who  seemed  to  wear  new  clothes  all  the  time,  and 
spend  their  evenings  in  elegant  society,  or  in  the 
gorgeous  seclusion  of  palaces  like  that  occupied  by 
Marge's  club. 

For  instance,  there  was  Marge.  Phil  had  asked 
Tramlay  what  business  Marge  was  in,  and  the  re- 
ply was,  "None  in  particular:  lives  on  his  income." 
What,  asked  Phil  of  himself,  was  the  reason  that 
such  a  man,  who  did  not  seem  much  interested  in 
anything,  should  have  plenty  of  money  and  nothing 
to  do,  when  a  certain  other  person,  who  could  keenly 
enjoy,  and,  he  believed,  honestly  improve,  all  of 
Marge's  privileges,  should  have  been  doomed  to 
spend  his  life  in  hard  endeavor  to  wrest  the  plain- 
est food  from  the  jealous  earth  and  threatening  sea, 
and  have  but  a  chance  glimpse  of  the  Paradise  that 
the  rich  were  enjoying, — a  glimpse  which  probably 
would  make  his  entire  after-life  wretched.    Could  he 


78  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

ever  again  be  what  he  had  so  loug  been? — a  cheerful, 
contented  young  farmer  and  fisherman?  He  actu- 
ally shivered  as  he  called  up  the  picture  of  the  long 
road,  alternately  dusty  and  muddy,  that  passed  his 
father's  house,  its  sides  of  brown  fence  and  straggling 
bushes  and  weeds  converging  in  the  distance,  an  un- 
couth human  figure  or  a  crawling  horse  and  wagon 
its  only  sign  of  animation,  and  contrasted  it  with 
Fifth  Avenue,  its  boundaries  handsome  houses  and 
its  roadway  thronged  with  costly  equipages  bearing 
well-dressed  men  and  beautiful  women.  Passing  the 
house  of  a  merchant  prince,  he  saw  in  the  window 
a  fine  bronze  group  on  a  stand ;  how  different  from 
the  little  plaster  vase  of  wax  flowers  and  fruits  which 
had  been  visible  through  his  mother's  "  best  room" 
window  as  long  as  he  could  remember  ! 

Yes,  money  was  the  sole  cause  of  the  difference : 
money,  or  the  lack  of  it,  had  cursed  his  father,  as  it 
now  was  cursing  him.  None  of  the  elderly  men  he 
saw  had  faces  more  intelligent  than  his  father,  yet  at 
that  very  moment  the  fine  old  man  was  probably 
clad  in  oft-patched  trousers  and  cotton  shirt,  digging 
m.uck  from  a  black  slimy  pit  to  enrich  the  thin  soil 
of  the  wheat-lot.  And  his  mother :  it  made  his  blood 
boil  to  think  of  her  in  faded  calico  preparing  supper 
in  the  plain  old  kitchen  at  home,  while  scores  of 
richly-clad  women  of  her  age,  but  without  her  alert, 
smiling  face,  were  leaning  back  in  carriages  and 
seemingly  unconscious  of  the  blessing  of  being  ex- 
empt from  homely  toil. 

And,  coming  back  to  himself,  money,  or  lack  of  it, 
would  soon  banish  him  from  all  that  now  his  eye 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  79 

was  feasting  upon.  It  would  also  banish  him  from 
Lucia.  He  had  read  stories  of  poor  young  men 
whom  wondrous  chances  of  fortune  had  helped  to 
the  hands  and  hearts  of  beautiful  maidens  clad  in 
fine  raiment  and  wearing  rare  gems,  but  he  never 
had  failed  to  remind  himself  that  such  tales  were 
only  romances;  now  the  memory  of  them  seemed 
only  to  empliasize  the  sarcasm  of  destiny.  Money 
had  made  between  him  and  Lucia  a  gulf  as  wide 
as  the  ocean,— as  the  distance  between  the  poles, — 


He  might  have  compared  it  with  eternity,  had  not 
his  eye  been  arrested  by  somebody  in  a  carriage  in  the 
long  line  that  was  passing  up  the  avenue.  It  was 
Lucia  herself,  riding  with  her  mother.  Perhaps 
heaven  had  pity  on  the  unhappy  boy,  for  some  ob- 
struction brought  the  line  to  a  halt,  and  Phil,  step- 
ping from  the  sidewalk,  found  that  the  gulf  was  not 
too  wide  to  be  spanned,  for  an  instant  at  least,  by 
two  hands. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

NEWS,  YET  NO  NEWS. 

"Any  letters?" 

"Not  a  letter." 

"Sho!" 

Farmer  Hayn  and  his  wife  would  have  made 
good  actors,  if  tested  by  their  ability  to  clothe  a 
few  words  with  pantomime  of  much  variety  and 
duration.  From  almost  the  time  that  her  husband 
started  to  the  post-office,  Mrs.  Hayn  had  been  going 
out  on  the  veranda  to  look  for  him  returning.  She 
had  readjusted  her  afternoon  cap  several  times,  as 
she  would  have  done  had  she  expected  a  visitor ;  she 
had  picked  faded  buds  from  sotne  late  roses,  had  ex- 
amined the  base  of  one  of  the  piazza  posts  to  be  sure 
that  the  old  wistaria  vine  was  not  dragging  it  from 
its  place,  and  had  picked  some  bits  of  paper  from  the 
little  grass-plot  in  front  of  the  house ;  but  each  time 
she  went  from  one  duty  to  another  she  shaded  her 
eyes  and  looked  down  the  road  over  which  her  hus- 
band would  return.  She  had  eyes  for  everything 
outside  the  house, — an  indication  of  rot  at  an  end 
of  one  of  the  window-sills,  a  daring  cocoon  between 
two  slats  of  a  window-blind,  a  missing  screw  of  the 
door-knob, — all  trifles  that  had  been  as  they  were  for 
weeks,  but  had  failed  to  attract  her  attention  until 
80 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  81 

expectation  had  sharpened  her  eyesight.  As  time 
wore  on,  she  went  into  the  house  for  her  spectacles ; 
generally  she  preferred  to  have  letters  read  to  her  by 
her  husband,  but  her  absent  son's  writing  she  must 
see  with  her  own  eyes.  Tlien  she  polished  the  glasses 
again  and  again,  trying  them  each  time  by  gazing 
down  the  road  for  the  bearer  of  the  expected  letter. 
Calmness,  in  its  outward  manifestation,  was  notice- 
able only  after  her  hope  had  again  been  deferred. 

As  for  the  old  man,  who  was  quite  as  disappointed 
as  his  wife,  he  studied  a  partly-loosened  vest-button 
as  if  it  had  been  an  object  of  extreme  value  ;  then  he 
sat  down  on  the  steps  of  the  veranda,  studied  all 
visible  sections  of  the  sky  for  a  minute  or  two,  and 
finally  ventured  the  opinion  that  a  middling  lively 
shower  might  come  due  about  midnight.  Then  he  told 
his  wife  of  having  met  the  minister,  who  had  not  said 
anything  in  particular,  and  of  a  coming  auction-sale 
of  which  he  had  heard,  and  how  eggs  for  shipment 
to  the  city  had  "looked  up"  three  cents  per  dozen. 
Then  he  sharpened  his  j^ocket-knife  on  his  boot-leg, 
handling  it  as  delicately  and  trying  its  edge  as  cau- 
tiously as  if  it  were  an  instrument  of  which  great 
things  were  expected.  Then  both  joined  in  estima- 
ting the  probable  cost  of  raising  the  youngest  calf  on 
the  farm  to  its  full  bovine  estate. 

Finally,  both  having  thoroughly  repressed  and 
denied  and  repulsed  themselves,  merely  because  they 
had  been  taught  in  youth  that  uncomfortable  restraint 
was  a  i^recious  privilege  and  a  sacred  duty,  Mrs. 
Hayn  broke  the  silence  by  exclaiming,— 

"It  does  beat  all." 
/ 


^2  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"What  does?"  asked  her  husband,  as  solicitously 
as  if  he  had  not  the  slightest  idea  of  what  was  ab- 
sorbing his  wife's  thoughts. 

''Why,  that  Phil  don't  write.  Here's  everybody 
in  town  tormentin'  me  to  know  when  he's  comin' 
back,  an'  if  he's  got  the  things  they  asked  him  to  buy 
for  'em,  an'  not  ,a  solitary  word  can  I  say  ;  we  don't 
even  know  how  to  send  a  letter  to  him  to  stir  him  up 
an'  remind  him  that  he's  got  parents." 

*'  Well,  ther's  sure  to  be  a  letter  somewheres  on  the 
way,  I  don't  doubt,  tellin'  us  all  we  want  to  know," 
said  the  old  man,  going  through  the  motions  of 
budding  an  althea-bush,  in  the  angle  of  the  step, 
from  a  scion  of  its  own  stock.  **  *  Watched  pots  never 
bile,'  you  know,  an'  'tain't  often  one  gets  a  letter  till 
he  stops  lookin'  for  it." 

"But  'tain't  a  bit  like  Phil,"  said  the  old  lady. 
"Why,  he's  been  away  more'n  a  week.  I  thought 
he'd  at  least  let  us  know  which  of  the  big  preachers 
he  heerd  on  Sunday,  an'  what  he  thought  of  'em. 
Hearin'  them  big  guns  of  the  pulpit  was  always  one 
of  the  things  he  wanted  to  go  to  tlie  city  for.  Then 
there's  the  bread-pan  I've  been  wan  tin'  for  ten 
years, — one  that's  got  tin  enough  to  it  not  to  rust 
through  every  time  there  comes  a  spell  of  damp 
weather  :  he  might  at  least  rest  my  mind  for  me  by 
lettin'  me  know  he'd  got  it." 

"All  in  good  time,  old  lady;  let's  be  patient,  an' 
we'll  hear  all  we're  waitin'  for.  Worry's  more 
wearyin'  than  work.  Rome  wasn't  built  in  a  day, 
you  know." 

"  For  mercy's  sake,  Reuben,  what's  Rome  got  to  do 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  83 

with  our  Phil  ?  I  don't  see  that  Rome's  got  anythin' 
to  do  with  the  case,  onless  it's  somethin'  lil^e  New 
York,  wliere  our  hoy  is." 

"  Well,  Rome  was  built  an'  rebuilt  a  good  many 
times,  you  see,  'fore  it  got  to  be  all  that  was  'xpeeted 
of  it :  an'  our  Phil's  goin'  through  the  same  operation, 
mebbe.  A  man's  got  to  be  either  a  stupid  savage  or 
a  finished-off  saint  to  be  suddenly  pitched  from  fields 
and  woods  into  a  great  big  town  without  bein^ 
dazed.  When  I  first  went  down  to  York,  my  eyes 
was  kept  so  wide  open  that  I  couldn't  scarcely  open 
my  mouth  for  a  few  days,  much  less  take  my  pen  in 
hand,  as  folks  say  in  letters.  I  hardly  knowed  which 
foot  I  was  standin'  on,  an'  sometimes  I  felt  as  if  the 
ground  was  gone  from  under  me.  Yet  New  York 
ground  is  harder  than  an  onbeliever's  heart." 

Mrs.  Hayn  seemed  to  accept  the  simile  of  Rome's 
building  as  applied  to  her  son,  for  she  made  no  fur- 
ther objection  to  it ;  she  continued,  however,  to  polish 
her  glasses,  in  anticipation  of  what  she  still  longed  to 
do  with  them.  Her  husband  continued  to  make  tiny 
slits  and  cross-cuts  in  the  althea's  bark,  and  to  in- 
sert buds  carefully  cut  from  the  boughs.  Finally 
he  remarked,  as  careleasly  as  if  talking  about  the 
weather, — 

"  Sol  Mantring's  sloop's  got  back." 

"Gracious!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hayn;  "why  ain't 
you  told  me  so  before?  Sol's  seen  Phil,  ain't  he? 
What  does  he  say  ?  Of  course  you  didn't  come  home 
without  seein'  him?" 

"Of  course  I  didn't.  Yes,  Sol's  seen  Phil, — seen 
him  the  day  before  he  caught  the  tide  an'  came  out. 


84  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

An'  Sol  says  he's  a  stunner,  too,— don't  look  no 
more  like  his  old  self  than  if  he'd  been  born  an' 
raised  in  York.  I  tell  j^ou,  Lou  Ann,  it  don't  take 
that  boy  much  time  to  catch  on  to  whatever's  got  go 
to  it.    Why,  Sol  says  he's  got  store-clothes  on,  from 

head  to  foot.    That  ain't  all,  either ;  he "    Here 

the  old  man  burst  into  laughter,  which  he  had  great 
difficulty  in  suppressing  ;  after  long  effort,  however, 
he  continued  :  "  Sol  says  he  carries  a  cane, — a  cane 
not  much  thicker  than  a  ramrod.  Just  imagine  our 
Phil  swingin'  a  cane  if  you  can  !"  And  the  old  man 
resumed  his  laughter,  and  gave  it  free  course. 

"Mercy  sakes  !"  said  the  old  lady;  "I  hope  he 
didn't  take  it  to  church  with  him.  An'  I  hope  he 
won't  bring  it  back  here.  What' 11  the  other  mem- 
bers of  the  Young  People's  Bible-Class  say  to  see 
Buch  goin's-on  by  one  that's  always  been  so  proper?" 

"Why,  let  him  bring  it:  what's  a  cane  got  to  do 
with  Bible-classes?  I  don't  doubt  some  of  the  'pos- 
tles  carried  canes  ;  I  think  I've  seed  'em  in  pictures 
in  the  Illustrated  Family  Bible.  I  s'pose  down  in 
Judee  ther'  was  snakes  an'  dogs  that  a  man  had  to 
take  a  clip  at  with  a  stick,  once  in  a  while,  same  as 
in  other  countries." 

"What  else  did  Sol  say?"  asked  the  mother. 

"Well,  he  didn't  bring  no  special  news.  He  said 
Phil  didn't  know  he  was  leavin'  so  soon,  else  like 
enough  he'd  have  sent  some  word.  He  said  Phil 
was  lookin'  well,  an'  had  a  walk  on  him  like  a  sojer 
in  a  picture.  I'm  glad  the  boy's  got  a  chance  to  get 
the  plough-handle  stoop  out  of  his  shoulders  for  a 
few  days.    Sez  you  wouldn't  know  his  face,  though, 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  85 

*cause  his  hair's  cut  so  short;  got  a  new  watch- 
chain,  too ;  I'm  glad  to  hear  that,  'cause  I  was  par- 
ticular to  tell  him  to  do  it." 

"  Well,  I  half  wish  Sol  Mantring's  sloop  had  stayed 
down  to  York,  if  that's  all  the  news  it  could  bring," 
said  Mrs.  Hayn,  replacing  her  spectacles  in  their  tin 
case,  which  she  closed  with  a  decided  snap.  "  Such 
a  little  speck  of  news  is  only  aggravatin' :  that's 
what  'tis." 

"Small  favors  thankfully  received,  old  lady,  as  the 
advertisements  sometimes  say.  Oh,  there  was  one 
thing  more  Sol  said  :  'twas  that  he  reckoned  Phil  was 
dead  gone  on  that  Tramlay  gal." 

Mrs.  Hayn  received  this  information  in  silence; 
her  husband  began  to  throw  his  open  knife  at  a  leaf 
on  one  of  the  veranda  steps. 

"  I  don't  see  how  Sol  Mantring  was  to  know  any- 
thing like  that,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn,  after  a  short  silence. 
"He  isn't  the  kind  that  our  Phil  would  go  an'  un- 
bosom to,  if  he  had  any  such  thing  to  tell,  which  it 
ain't  certain  he  had." 

"  Young  men  don't  always  have  to  tell  such  things, 
to  make  'em  known,"  suggested  the  farmer.  "  Pooty 
much  everybody  knowed  when  I  was  fust  gone  on 
you,  though  I  didn't  say  nothin'  to  nobody,  not  even 
to  the  gal  herself." 

"If  it's  so,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn,  after  another  short 
pause,  "  mebbe  it  explains  why  he  hain't  writ.  He'd 
want  to  tell  us  'fore  anybody  else,  an'  he  feels  kind 
o'  bashful  hke." 

"  You've  got  a  good  mem'ry,  Lou  Ann,"  said  the 
old  farmer,  rising,  and  pinching  his  wife's  ear. 
8 


86  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"  What  do  you  mean,  Reuben  ?" 

**0h,  nothin',  'xcept  that  you  hain't  forgot  the 
symptoms, — that's  all." 

"Sho!"  exclaimed  the  old  lady,  giving  her  hus- 
band a  push,  though  not  so  far  but  that  she  was 
leaning  on  his  shoulder  a  moment  later.  "  'Twould 
be  kind  o'  funny  if  that  thing  was  to  work,  though, 
wouldn't  it?"  she  continued;  "that  is,  if  Sol's 
right." 

"Well,"  replied  her  husband,  with  a  sudden  acces- 
sion of  earnestness  in  his  voice,  "if  Sol's  right, 
'twon't  be  a  bit  funny  if  it  doriH  work.  I  hope  the 
blessed  boy's  got  as  much  good  stuff  in  him  as  I've 
always  counted  on.  The  bigger  the  heart,  the  wuss 
it  hurts  when  it  gets  hit ;  an'  there's  a  mighty  big 
heart  in  any  child  of  you  an'  me,  though  I  say  it  as 
mebbe  I  shouldn't." 

"  That  boy  ain't  never  goin'  to  have  no  heart-aches, 
— not  on  account  o'  gals,"  said  the  mother,  whose 
voice  also  showed  a  sudden  increase  of  earnestness. 
"I  don't  b'lieve  the  gal  was  ever  made  that  could 
say  no  to  a  splendid  young  feller  like  that, — a  young 
feller  that's  han'some  an'  good  an'  bright  an'  full  o' 
fun,  an'  that  can  tell  more  with  his  eyes  in  a  minute 
than  a  hull  sittin'-room-fuU  of  ord'nary  young  men 
can  say  with  their  tongues  in  a  week." 

"No,"  said  the  old  man,  soberly,  "not  if  the  gal 
stayed  true  to  the  pattern  she  was  made  on, — like 
you  did,  for  instance.  But  gals  is  only  human, — 
ther'  wouldn't  be  no  way  of  keepin'  'em  on  earth  if 
they  wasn't,  you  know, — an'  sometimes  they  don't 
do  'xactly  what  might  be  expected  of  'em." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  87 

"That  Tramlay  gal  won't  give  him  the  mitten, 
anyhow,"  persisted  Mrs.  Hayn.  "Mebbe  she  ain't 
as  smart  as  some,  but  that  family,  through  an' 
through,  has  got  sense  enough  to  know  what's 
worth  havin'  when  they  see  it.  She  needn't  ever 
expect  to  come  back  here  to  board  for  the  summer, 
if  she  cuts  up  any  such  foolish  dido  as  that." 

"Lou  Ann,"  said  the  farmer,  solemnly,  "do  you 
reely  think  it  over  an'  above  likely  that  she'd  want 
to  come  back,  in  such  case  made  an'  pervided  ?" 

Then  both  old  people  laughed,  and  went  into  the 
house,  and  talked  of  all  sorts  of  things  that  bore  no 
relation  whatever  to  youth  or  love  or  New  York. 
They  retired  early,  after  the  manner  of  farm-people 
in  general,  after  a  prayer  containing  a  formal  and 
somewhat  indefinite  petition  for  the  absent  one. 
The  old  lady  lay  awake  for  hours,  it  seemed  to  her, 
her  head  as  full  of  rosy  dreams  as  if  it  were  not  cov- 
ered with  snow  ;  yet  when  at  last  she  was  dropping 
asleep  she  was  startled  by  hearing  her  husband 
whisper, — 

"  Father  in  heaven,  have  pity  on  my  poor  boy.'* 


CHAPTER    X. 


AGNES  DINON'S  PARTY. 


THROUCffl:  several  days  spent  listlessly  except  when 
dolefully,  and  through  several  restless  nights,  Philip 
Hayn  was  assisted  by  one  hope  that  changed  only  to 
brighten :  it  was  that  nearer  and  nearer  came  the 
night  of  the  party  to  which  Miss  Agnes  Dinon  had 
invited  him, — the  party  at  which  he  was  sure  he 
would  again  meet  Lucia.  Except  for  the  blissful  in- 
cident of  the  arrested  drive  on  the  Avenue,  he  had 
not  seen  her  since  the  evening  when  he  had  raised 
her  hand  to  his  lips.  How  the  thought  of  that 
moment  sent  the  blood  leaping  to  his  own  finger-tips  ! 
He  had  haunted  the  Avenue  every  afternoon,  not 
daring  to  hope  that  the  carriage  would  again  be 
stopped  in  its  course,  but  that  at  least  he  might  see 
her  passing  face.  As  quick  as  a  flash  that  day  his 
eye,  trained  in  country  fashion  to  first  identify  ap- 
proaching riders  by  their  horses,  had  scanned  the 
animals  that  drew  the  carriage,  so  that  he  might 
know  them  when  next  he  saw  them.  But  again  and 
again  was  he  disappointed,  for  spans  on  which  he 
would  have  staked  his  reputation  as  being  the  same 
were  drawing  carriages  that  did  not  contain  the  face 
he  sought.  He  might  have  been  spared  many  heart- 
sinkings,  as  well  as  doubts  of  his  horse-lore,  had  he 
88 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  89 

known  that  the  Tramlays  did  not  keep  a  turn-out, 
but  had  recourse  to  a  livery-stable  when  they  wanted 
to  drive. 

He  had  even  sought  Lucia  at  church.  He  had 
known,  since  the  family's  summer  at  Haynton,  the 
name  of  the  church  whicli  tliey  attended,  and  tliitlier 
he  wended  his  way  Sunday  morning ;  but  their  pew 
was  apparently  farther  back  than  the  seat  to  which 
he  was  shown,  for  not  one  member  of  the  Tramlay 
family  could  he  see  in  front  or  to  either  side  of  him, 
and  when  the  service  ended  and  he  reached  the  side- 
walk as  rapidly  as  possible  he  soon  learned  that  the 
custom  of  rural  young  men  to  stand  in  front  of 
churches  to  see  the  worshippers  emerge  was  not 
followed  at  fashionable  temples  in  the  city. 

Another  comforting  hope,  which  was  sooner  lost 
in  full  fruition,  was  in  the  early  arrival  of  his  dress- 
suit.  Fully- arrayed,  he  spent  many  hours  before 
the  mirror  in  his  room  at  the  hotel,  endeavoring  to 
look  like  some  of  the  gentlemen  whom  he  had  seen 
at  the  Tramlay  reception.  Little  though  he  admired 
Marge  on  general  principles,  he  did  not  hesitate  to 
conform  himself  as  nearly  as  possible  to  that  gentle- 
man's splendid  composure.  Strolling  into  a  theatre 
one  evening  on  a  "general  admission"  ticket,  which 
entitled  him  to  the  privilege  of  leaning  against  a 
wall,  he  saw  quite  a  number  of  men  in  evening  dress, 
and  he  improved  the  opportunity  to  study  the  com- 
parative effects  of  different  styles  of  collars  and  shirt- 
fronts.  Finally  he  ventured  to  appear  at  the  theatre 
in  evening  dress  himself,  and  from  the  lack  of  special 
attention  he  justly  flattered  himself  that  he  did  nol 
8* 


90  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

carry  himself  unlike  other  men.  He  also  made  the 
important  discovery  that  Judge  Dickman's  custom 
of  buttoning  his  swallow-tailed  coat  at  the  waist,  and 
displaying  a  yellow^  silk  handkerchief  in  the  fulness 
thereof,  had  been  abandoned  in  the  metropolis. 

At  last  the  long-hoped-for  evening  arrived,  and 
Phil  was  fully  dressed  and  uncomfortable  before  sun- 
set. He  had  already  learned,  by  observation,  that 
well-dressed  men  kept  their  faces  closely  shaved,  and 
he  had  experimented,  not  without  an  inward  groan 
at  his  extravagance,  in  what  to  him  were  the  mys- 
teries of  hair-dressing.  He  ventured  into  the  streets 
as  soon  as  darkness  had  fairly  fallen,  made  his  way 
to  the  vicinity  of  the  Dinon  residence,  and  from  a 
safe  distance  reconnoitred  the  house  with  the  pur- 
pose, quite  as  common  in  the  country  as  in  town,  of 
not  being  among  the  earliest  arrivals.  So  long  did 
he  watch  without  seeing  even  a  single  person  or 
carriage  approach  the  door  that  there  came  to  him 
the  horrible  fear  that  perhaps  for  some  reason  the 
affair  had  been  postponed.  About  nine  o'clock,  how- 
ever, his  gaze  was  rewarded  by  a  single  carriage ; 
another  followed  shortly,  and  several  others  came  in 
rapid  succession  :  so  a  quarter  of  an  hour  later  he 
made  his  own  entry.  On  this  occasion  he  was  not 
unable  to  translate  the  instructions,  as  to  the  locality 
of  the  gentlemen's  dressing-room,  imparted  by  the 
servant  at  the  door  ;  but,  having  reached  the  general 
receptacle  of  coats,  hats,  and  sticks,  \^q  was  greatly 
puzzled  to  know  why  a  number  of  gentlemen  were 
standing  about  doing  nothing.  By  the  time  he 
learned  that  most  of  them  were  merely  waiting  for 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  91 

their  respective  feminine  charges  to  descend  with 
them,  a  clock  in  the  room  struck  ten,  and  as  Phil 
counted  the  strokes  and  remembered  how  often  he 
had  been  half  roused  from  his  first  doze  beneatli  his 
bedclothes  at  home  by  just  that  number,  he  yawned 
by  force  of  habit  and  half  wislied  he  never  had  left 
Haynton. 

But  suddenly  drowsiness,  melancholy,  and  every- 
thing else  uncomfortable  disappeared  in  an  instant, 
and  heaven — Phil's  own,  newest  heaven — enveloped 
the  earth,  for  as  he  followed  two  or  three  bachelors 
who  were  going  down-stairs  he  heard  a  well-known 
voice  exclaiming, — 

"Oh,  Phil !  Isn't  this  nice?  Just  as  if  you'd  been 
waiting  for  me  I  I  haven't  any  escort  to-night,  so 
you'll  have  to  take  me  down.  Papa  will  drop  in 
later,  after  he's  tired  of  the  club." 

Oh,  the  music  in  the  rustle  of  her  dress  as  it  trailed 
down  the  stair !  Oh,  the  gold  of  her  hair,  the  flush 
of  her  cheek,  the  expectancy  in  her  eyes  and  her 
parted  lips !  And  only  twenty  steps  in  which  to 
have  it  all  to  himself!  Would  they  had  been  twenty 
thousand ! 

At  the  foot  of  the  stair  Lucia  took  Phil's  arm,  and 
together  they  saluted  their  hostess.  Phil  felt  that  he 
was  being  looked  at  by  some  one  besides  Miss  Dinon, 
as  indeed  he  was,  for  handsome  young  strangers  are 
quite  as  rare  in  New  York  as  anywhere  else  in  the 
world.  Nevertheless  his  consciousness  was  not  al- 
lowed to  make  him  uncomfortable,  for  between  long- 
trained  courtesy  and  intelligent  admiration  Miss 
Dinon  waa  enabled  to  greet  him  so  cordially  that  ho 


92  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

was  made  to  feel  entirely  at  ease.  Other  guests  came 
down  in  a  moment,  and  Lucia  led  Phil  away,  pre- 
senting him  to  some  of  her  acquaintances  and  keenly 
enjoymg  the  surprise  of  those  who  recognized  in  him 
the  awkward  country-boy  of  a  week  before.  Then 
one  gentleman  after  another  engaged  Lucia  in  con- 
versation, and  begged  dances;  other  ladies  with 
whom  he  was  chatting  were  similarly  taken  from 
him  ;  and  Phil  finally  found  himself  alone  on  a  sofa, 
in  a  position  from  which  he  could  closely  observe  the 
hostess. 

Miss  Agnes  Dinon  was  very  well  worth  looking  at. 
Mrs.  Tramlay  may  not  have  been  far  from  right  in 
fixing  her  years  at  thirty-six,  but  there  were  scores 
of  girls  who  would  gladly  have  accepted  some  of 
her  years  if  they  might  have  taken  with  them  her 
superb  physique  and  some  of  the  tact  and  wit  that 
her  years  had  brought  her.  Gladly,  too,  would  they 
have  shared  Miss  Dinon's  superfluous  age  could  they 
have  divided  with  her  the  fortune  she  had  in  her 
own  right.  Nobody  knew  exactly  how  much  it  was, 
and  fancies  on  the  subject  differed  widely  ;  but  what 
did  that  matter?  The  leading  and  interesting  fact 
was  that  it  was  large  enough  to  have  attracted  a 
pleasing  variety  of  suitors,  so  that  there  had  not 
been  a  time  since  she  "came  out"  when  Miss  Dinon 
might  not  have  set  her  wedding-day  had  she  liked. 
What  detriment  is  there  in  age  to  a  girl  who  can 
aflTord  to  choose  instead  of  be  chosen  ?  Is  not  the  full- 
blown rose  more  satisfactory,  to  many  eyes,  than  the 
bud  ?  And  how  much  more  charming  the  rose  whose 
blushing  petals  lack  not  the  gUnt  of  gold  ! 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  93 

Phil  had  about  reached  the  conclusion  that  Miss 
Dinon  was  a  woman  whom  he  believed  it  would  do 
his  mother  good  to  lool£  at,  when  his  deliberations 
were  brought  to  an  end  by  the  lady  herself,  who  ap- 
proached him  and  said,— 

"At  last  I  can  take  time  to  present  you  to  some  of 
my  friends,  Mr.  Hayn.    May  I  have  your  arm  ?" 

Phil  at  once  felt  entirely  at  ease.  It  was  merely  a 
return  of  an  old  and  familiar  sensation,  for  he  had 
always  been  highly  esteemed  by  the  more  mature 
maidens  of  Haynton,  and  generally  found  them  far 
more  inspiring  company  than  their  younger  sisters. 
Phil  informed  himself,  in  the  intervals  of  introduc- 
tions, that  Miss  Dinon  was  not  like  Lucia  in  a  single 
particular,  but  she  certainly  was  a  magnificent  creat- 
ure. Her  features,  thougli  ratlier  large,  were  pei-fect, 
her  eye  was  full  of  soul,  especially  when  he  looked 
down  into  it,  as  from  his  height  he  was  obliged  to, 
and  the  pose  of  her  head,  upon  shouldera  displayed 
according  to  the  prevailing  custom  of  evening  dress, 
was  simply  superb.  She  found  opportunities  to  chat 
a  great  deal,  too,  as  they  made  the  tour  of  the  parlors, 
and  all  she  said  implied  that  her  hearer  was  a  man 
of  sense,  who  did  not  require  to  be  fed  alternately 
upon  the  husks  and  froth  of  polite  conversation. 
Phil's  wit  was  quite  equal  to  that  of  his  fair  enter- 
tainer, and  as  her  face  reflected  her  feelings  the  guests 
began  to  be  conscious  that  their  hostess  and  the 
stranger  made  a  remarkably  flne-lookiug  couple. 

Impossible  though  he  would  have  imagined  it  half 
an  hour  before,  Phil's  thoughts  had  been  entirely  des- 
titute of  Lucia  for  a  few  moments ;  suddenly,  how- 


94  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

ever,  they  recovered  her,  for  looking  across  the  head 
of  a  little  rosebud  to  whom  he  had  just  been  intro- 
duced, Phil  beheld  Lucia  looking  at  him  with  an  ex- 
pression that  startled  him.  He  never  before  had 
seen  her  look  that  way,— very  sober,  half  blank, 
half  angry.  What  could  it  mean?  Could  she  be 
oflfended?  But  why?  Was  he  not  for  the  moment 
in  charge  of  his  hostess,  who,  according  to  Haynton 
custom,  and  probably  custom  everywhere  else,  had 
supreme  right  when  she  chose  to  exercise  it  ? 

Could  it  be — the  thought  came  to  him  as  suddenly 
as  an  unexpected  blow— could  it  be  that  she  was  jeal- 
ous of  his  attention  to  Miss  Dinon,  and  of  his  proba- 
bly apparent  enjoyment  of  that  lady's  society?  Oh, 
horrible,  delicious  thought !  Jealousy  was  not  an 
unknown  quality  at  Haynton  :  he  had  observed  its 
development  often  and  often.  But  to  be  jealous  a 
girl  must  be  very  fond  of  a  man,  or  at  least  desirous 
of  his  regard.  Could  it  be  that  Lucia  regarded  him 
as  he  did  her  ?  Did  she  really  esteem  him  as  more 
than  a  mere  acquaintance  ?  If  not,  why  that  strange 
look? 

If  really  jealous,  Lucia  soon  had  ample  revenge, 
for  music  began,  and  Miss  Dinon  said,— 

"Have  you  a  partner  for  the  quadrille,  Mr.  Hayn  ? 
If  not,  you  must  let  me  find  you  one." 

**  I— no,  I  don't  dance,"  he  stammered. 

"  How  unfortunate — for  a  dozen  or  more  girls  this 
evening  !"  murmured  Miss  Dinon.  "  You  will  kindly 
excuse  me,  that  I  may  see  if  the  sets  are  full?" 

Phil  bowed,  and  edged  his  w^ay  to  a  corner,  where 
in  solitude  and  wretchedness  he  beheld  Lucia  go 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  95 

through  a  quadrille,  bestowing  smiles  in  rapid  suc- 
cession upon  her  partner,  who  was  to  Phil's  eyes  too 
utterly  insignificant  to  deserve  a  single  glance  from 
those  fairest  eyes  in  the  world.  His  lips  liardcned  as 
•he  saw  Lucia  occasionally  whirled  to  her  place  by  the 
arm  of  her  partner  boldly  encircling  her  waist.  He 
had  always  thought  dancing  was  wrong;  now  he 
knew  it.  At  Haynton  the  young  people  occasionally 
went  through  a  dance  called  "Sir  Roger  de  Cover- 
ley,"  but  there  was  no  hugging  in  that.  And  Lucia 
did  not  seem  at  all  displeased  by  her  partner's  famil- 
iarity,—confound  it ! 

He  had  to  unbend  and  forget  his  anger  when  the 
quadrille  ended,  for  a  pretty  maiden  to  whom  he  had 
been  introduced  accosk'd  him  and  said  some  cheer- 
ful nothings,  fluttering  suggestively  a  miniature  fan 
on  which  were  pencilled  some  engagements  to  dance. 
But  soon  the  music  of  a  waltz  arose,  and  Phil's  eye 
flashed,  to  a  degree  that  frightened  the  maiden  be- 
fore him,  for  directly  in  front  of  him,  with  a  man's 
arm  permanently  about  her  slender  waist  and  her 
head  almost  pillowed  on  her  partner's  shoulder,  was 
Lucia.  More  dreadful  still,  she  seemed  not  only  to 
accept  the  situation,  but  to  enjoy  it;  there  was  on 
her  face  a  look  of  dreamy  content  that  Phil  remem- 
bered having  seen  when  she  swung  in  a  hammock 
at  Haynton.  He  remembered  that  then  he  had 
thought  it  angelic,  but— then  there  was  no  arm 
about  her  waist. 

The  pretty  maiden  with  the  fan  had  looked  to  see 
what  had  affected  the  handsome  young  man  so  un- 
pleasantly.   '*  Oh,"  she  whispered,  '*  he  is  dreadfully 


96  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

awkward.  I  positively  shiver  whenever  he  asks  me 
for  a  dance.'' 

"Awkward,  indeed!"  exclaimed  Phil.  A  very- 
young  man  with  a  solemn  countenance  came  over 
just  then  to  remind  the  maiden  with  the  fan  that  the 
next  quadrille  would  be  his :  so  she  floated  away,  be- 
stowing upon  Phil  a  parting  smile  far  too  sweet  to 
be  utterly  wasted,  as  it  was. 

**  You  seem  unhappy,  Mr.  Hayn,"  said  Miss  Dinon, 
rejoining  Phil.  "I  really  believe  it's  because  you 
don't  dance.     Confess,  now." 

**You  ought  to  be  a  soothsayer.  Miss  Dinon,  you 
are  so  shrewd  at  guessing,"  said  Phil,  forcing  a  smile 
and  then  mentally  rebuking  himself  for  lying. 

"Won't  you  attempt  at  least  a  quadrille?  The 
next  one  will  be  very  easy." 

"Phil !"  exclaimed  Lucia,  coming  up  to  him  with 
an  odd,  defiant  look,  part  of  which  was  given  to 
Miss  Dinon,  "you're  too  mean  for  anything.  You 
haven't  asked  me  for  a  single  dance." 

Phil's  smile  was  of  the  sweetest  and  cheeriest  as  he 
replied,— 

"  Wouldn't  it  be  meaner  to  ask  for  what  I  wouldn't 
know  how  to  accept?  We  country-people  don't 
know  how  to  dance." 

"But  any  one  can  go  through  a  quadrille  :  it's  as 
easy  as  walking." 

"You  couldn't  have  a  better  opportunity  than  the 
next  dance,  Mr.  Hayn,"  said  Miss  Dinon,  "nor  a 
more  graceful  partner  and  instructor  than  Miss 
Tramlay." 

Lucia  looked  grateful  and  penitent ;  then  she  took 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  97 

Phil's  arm,  and  whispered  rapidly,  "We'll  take  a 
side:  all  you  need  do  will  be  to  watch  the  head 
couples  carefully,  and  do  exactly  as  they  do,  when 
our  turn  comes." 

''But  if  I  blunder " 

"  Then  I'll  forgive  you.    What  more  can  you  ask  ?" 

"Nothing,"  said  Phil,  his  heart  warming,  and  his 
face  reflecting  the  smile  that  accompanied  Lucia's 
promise.  The  quadrille  was  really  as  easy  as  had  been 
promised  :  indeed,  Phil  found  it  almost  identical,  ex- 
cept in  lack  of  grace,  with  an  alleged  calisthenic  exer- 
cise which  a  pious  teacher  had  once  introduced  in 
Hayn ton's  school.  The  motion  of  swinging  a  partner 
back  to  position  by  an  encircling  arm  puzzled  him 
somewhat,  as  he  contemplated  it,  but  Lucia  kindly 
came  to  his  assistance,  and  'twas  done  almost  before 
he  knew  it, — done  altogether  too  quickly,  in  fact.  And 
although  he  honestly  endeavored  to  analyze  the 
wickedness  of  it,  and  to  feel  horrified  and  remorse- 
ful, his  mind  utterly  refused  to  obey  him. 

"There  !"  exclaimed  Lucia,  as  the  quadrille  ended, 
and,  leaning  on  Phil's  arm,  she  moved  toward  a  seat. 
"  You  didn't  seem  to  find  that  difficult." 

"  Anything  w^ould  be  easy,  with  you  for  a  teacher," 
Phil  replied. 

"  Thanks,"  said  Lucia,  with  a  pretty  nod  of  her  head. 

"And  I'm  ever  so  much  obliged  to  Miss  Dinon  for 
urging  me  to  try,"  continued  Phil. 

"Agnes  Dinon  is  a  dear  old  thing,"  said  Lucia, 
fanning  herself  vigorously. 

"Old?"  echoed  Phil.  "A  woman  like  Miss  Dinon 
can  never  be  old." 

^       g  9 


98  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Lucia's  fan  stopped  suddenly;  again  the  strange 
jealous  look  came  into  her  face,  and  she  said, — 

"  I  should  imagine  you  had  been  smitten  by  Miss 
Dinon." 

' '  K'onsense  !' '  Phil  exclaimed,  with  a  laugh.  *  *  Can' t 
a  man  state  a  simple  fact  in  natural  history  without 
being  misunderstood?" 

'  *  Forgive  me, ' '  said  Lucia,  prettily.  ' '  I  forgot  that 
you  were  always  interested  in  the  deepest  and  most 
far-away  side  of  everything.  Here  comes  that  stupid 
little  Laybrough,  who  has  my  next  waltz.  I'm  going 
to  depend  upon  you  to  take  me  down  to  supper. 
By-by.'» 

A  minute  later,  and  Phil  sobered  again,  for  again 
Lucia  was  floating  about  the  room  with  a  man's  arm 
around  her  waist.  Phil  took  refuge  in  philosophy, 
and  wondered  whether  force  of  habit  was  sufficient 
to  explain  why  a  lot  of  modest  girls,  as  all  in  Miss 
Dinon's  parlors  undoubtedly  were,  could  appear 
entirely  at  ease  during  so  immodest  a  diversion. 
During  the  waltz  he  leaned  against  a  door-casing :  evi- 
dently some  one  was  occupying  a  similar  position  on 
the  other  side,  in  the  hall,  for  Phil  distinctly  heard  a 
low  voice  saying, — 

**  Wouldn't  it  be  great  if  our  charming  hostess 
were  to  set  her  cap  for  that  young  fellow  from  the 
country?" 

"Nonsense  !"  was  the  reply :  "she's  too  much  the 
older  to  think  of  such  a  thing." 

"Not  a  bit  of  it.  She'll  outlive  any  young  girl  in 
the  room.  Besides,  where  money  calls,  youth  is 
never  slow  in  responding." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  99 

"They  Bay  he's  as  good  as  engaged  to  Miss  Tram- 
lay,"  said  the  first  speaker. 

**  Indeed  ?  Umph !  Not  a  bad  match.  Has  lie  got 
any  money?  I  don't  believe  Tramlay  is  more  than 
holding  his  own." 

Pliil  felt  his  face  flush  as  he  moved  away.  He 
wanted  to  resent  the  remarks  about  his  hostess,  an 
implication  that  his  friend  Tramlay  was  other  than 
rich,  and,  still  more,  that  any  young  man  could  be 
led  to  the  marriage-altar  merely  by  money.  If  people 
were  talking  about  him  in  such  fiishion  he  wished  he 
might  be  out  of  sight.  He  would  return  at  once  to 
his  hotel,  had  he  not  promised  to  take  Lucia  down 
to  supper.  He  could  at  least  hide  himself,  for  a  little 
while,  in  the  gentlemen's  room  up-stairs.  Thither 
he  went,  hoping  to  be  alone,  but  he  found  Marge, 
who  had  just  come  in,  and  who  lost  his  self-posses- 
sion for  an  instant  when  he  recognized  the  well- 
dressed  young  man  before  him. 

"Anybody  here?"  drawled  Marge. 

**  Lucia  is, — I  mean  Miss  Tramlay,"  said  Phil,  in 
absent-minded  fashion, — "and  lots  of  other  people, 
of  course." 

Marge  looked  curiously  at  Phil-s  averted  face,  and 
went  down-stairs.  Phil  remained  long  enough  to 
find  that  his  mind  was  in  an  utter  muddle,  and  that 
apparently  nothing  would  compose  it  but  another 
glimpse  of  Lucia.  As  supper  was  served  soon  after 
he  went  down,  his  wish  was  speedily  gratified. 
From  tliat  time  forward  his  eye  sought  her  continu- 
ally, although  he  tried  to  speak  again  to  every  one 
to  whom  he  had  been  introduced.    How  he  envied 


100  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Lucia's  father,  who  was  to  escort  the  little  witch 
home  !  How  he  wished  that  in  the  city,  as  at  Hayn- 
ton,  people  walked  home  from  parties,  and  stood  a  long 
time  at  the  gate,  when  maid  and  man  were  pleasantly 
acquainted  ! 

He  saw  Lucia  go  up-stairs  when  the  company 
began  leave-taking ;  he  stood  at  the  foot  of  the  stair, 
that  he  might  have  one  more  glance  at  her.  As  she 
came  down  she  was  an  entirely  new  picture,  though 
none  the  less  charming,  in  her  wraps.  And— oh,  bliss ! 
— she  saw  him,  and  said, — 

"  See  me  to  the  carriage,  Phil,  and  then  find  papa 
for  me.'* 

How  tenderly  he  handed  her  down  the  carpeted 
stone  steps !  He  had  seen  pictures  of  such  scenes,  and 
tried  to  conform  his  poses  with  those  he  recalled. 
He  opened  the  carriage  door.  Lucia  stepped  in,  but 
her  train  could  not  follow  of  its  own  volition,  so 
Phil  had  the  joy  of  lifting  the  rustling  mass  that  had 
the  honor  of  following  the  feet  of  divinity.  Then  he 
closed  the  carriage  door  regretfully,  but  a  little  hand 
kindly  stole  through  the  window  as  Lucia  said,— 

"  Good-night.    Don't  forget  to  send  papa  out." 

**  I  won't,"  said  Phil.  Then  he  looked  back  quickly  : 
the  door  of  the  house  was  closed,  so  he  raised  the 
little  hand  to  his  lips  and  kissed  it  several  times  in 
rapid  succession.  True,  the  hand  was  gloved  ;  but 
Phil's  imagination  was  not. 


CHAPTER    XL 

DRIFTING  FROM  MOORINGS. 

Master  Philip  Hayn  retired  from  his  second  even- 
ing in  New  York  society  with  feelings  very  different 
from  those  which  his  rather  heavy  heart  and  head 
had  carried  down  to  Sol  Mantring's  sloop  only  a 
short  week  before.  No  one  called  him"  country"  or 
looked  curiously  at  his  attire ;  on  the  contrary,  at 
least  one  lady,  in  a  late  party  that  boarded  the  ele- 
vated train  on  which  he  was  returning  to  his  hotel, 
regarded  him  with  evident  admiration.  Not  many 
days  before,  even  this  sort  of  attention  would  have 
made  him  uncomfortable,  but  the  experiences  of 
his  evening  at  Miss  Dinon's  had  impressed  him 
with  the  probability  that  he  would  be  to  a  certain 
degree  an  object  of  admiration,  and  he  was  already 
prepared  to  accept  it  as  a  matter  of  course, — very 
much,  in  fact,  as  he  had  been  taught  to  accept  what- 
ever else  which  life  seemed  sure  to  bring. 

Of  one  thing  he  felt  sure :  Lucia  did  not  regard 
him  unfavorably.  Perhaps  she  did  not  love  him, — 
he  was  modest  enough  to  admit  that  there  was  no 
possible  reason  why  she  should, — yet  she  had  not 
attempted  to  withdraw  that  little  hand— bless  it ! — 
when  he  was  covering  it  with  kisses.  Slie  had 
appropriated  him,  in  the  loveliest  way  imaginable, 
9*  101 


102  COUNTRF  LUCK 

not  only  once  but  several  times  during  the  evening, 
showing  marked  preference  for  him.  Perhaps  this 
was  not  so  great  a  compliment  as  at  first  sight  it 
seemed,  for,  hold  his  own  face  and  figure  in  as  low 
esteem  as  he  might,  he  nevertheless  felt  sure  that  the 
best-looking  young  man  in  Miss  Dinon's  parlors  was 
plainer  and  less  manly  than  himself.  But  if  her 
acceptance  of  his  homage  and  her  selection  of  him 
as  her  cavalier  were  not  enough,  there  was  that  jealous 
look,  twice  repeated.  He  informed  himself  that  the 
look  did  not  become  her ;  it  destroyed  the  charm  of  her 
expression  ;  it  made  her  appear  hard  and  unnatural : 
yet  he  would  not  lose  the  memory  of  it  for  worlds. 

Could  it  be  true,  as  he  had  heard  while  uninten- 
tionally a  listener,  that  her  father  was  not  rich? 
Well,  he  was  sorry  for  him ;  yet  this,  too,  was  a 
ground  for  hope.  After  what  he  had  heard,  it  was 
not  impossible  to  believe  that  perhaps  the  father  of 
the  country  youth,  with  his  thirty  or  forty  thousand 
dollars'  worth  of  good  land,  which  had  been  pros- 
pected as  a  possible  site  for  a  village  of  sea-side  cot- 
tages for  rich  people,  might  be  no  poorer  than  the 
father  of  the  city  girl.  It  seemed  impossible,  as  he 
mentally  compared  the  residences  of  the  two  families, 
yet  he  had  heard  more  than  once  that  city  people  as 
a  class  seemed  always  striving  to  live  not  only  up  to 
their  incomes,  but  as  far  beyond  them  as  tradesmen 
and  money-lenders  would  allow. 

As  to  the  talk  he  had  heard  about  Miss  Dinon,  he 
resented  it,  and  would  not  think  of  it  as  in  the  least 
degree  probable.  To  be  sure,  he  would  not  believe 
her  thirty-six,  though  if  she  were  he  heartily  honored 


COUNTRV  LUCK.  103 

her  that  she  had  lived  so  well  as  to  look  far  younger 
than  her  years.  Still,  he  was  not  to  be  bouglit,  even 
by  a  handsome  and  intelligent  woman.  It  was^ot 
uncomplimentary,  though,  that  any  one  should  liave 
thought  him  so  attractive  to  Miss  Dinon, — a  woman 
whom  he  was  sure  must  have  had  plenty  of  offers  in 
her  day.  But  should  he  ever  chance  to  marry  rich, 
what  a  sweet  and  perpetual  revenge  it  would  be  upon 
people  who  had  looked,  and  probably  talked,  as  if  he 
were  an  awkward  country  youth  ! 

Then  came  back  to  him  suddenly,  in  all  their 
blackness,  his  moody  thoughts  over  the  obdurate 
facts  in  the  case.  Prolong  his  butterfly  day  as  long 
as  his  money  would  allow,  he  must  soon  return  to 
his  normal  condition  of  a  country  grub  :  he  must  re- 
turn to  the  farm,  to  his  well-worn  clothes  of  antique 
cut  and  neighborly  patches,  to  the  care  of  horses, 
cows,  pigs,  and  chickens,  take  **  pot-luck"  in  the 
family  kitchen  instead  of  carefully  selecting  his  meals 
from  long  bills  of  fare.  Instead  of  attending  recep- 
tions in  handsome  houses,  he  must  seek  society  in 
church  sociables  and  the  hilarious  yet  very  homely 
parties  given  by  neighboring  farmers,  and  an  occa- 
sional afTair,  not  much  more  formal,  in  the  village. 

It  was  awful,  but  it  seemed  inevitable,  no  matter 
how  he  tortured  his  brain  in  trying  to  devise  an  al- 
ternative. If  he  had  a  little  money  he  might  specu- 
late in  stocks ;  there,  at  least,  he  might  benefit  by  his 
acquaintance  with  Marge  ;  but  all  the  money  he  had 
would  not  more  than  maintain  him  in  New  York  a 
fortnight  longer,  and  he  had  not  the  heart  to  ask  his 
father  for  more.    His  father !— what  could  that  good, 


104  COVNTRY  LUCK. 

much-abused  man  be  already  thinking  of  him,  that 
no  word  from  the  traveller  had  yet  reached  Hayn 
Farm  ?  He  would  write  that  very  night— or  mornin  g, 
late  though  it  was  ;  and  he  felt  very  virtuous  as  he 
resolved  that  none  of  the  discontent  that  filled  him 
should  get  into  his  letter. 

It  was  nearly  sunrise  when  he  went  to  bed.  From 
his  window,  eight  floors  from  the  ground,  he  could 
see  across  the  ugly  house-tops  a  rosy  flush  in  the  east, 
and  some  little  clouds  were  glowing  with  gold  under 
the  blue  canopy.  Rose,  blue,  gold, — Lucia's  cheeks, 
her  eyes,  her  hair ;  he  would  think  only  of  them, 
for  they  were  his  delight ;  his  misery  could  wait :  it 
would  have  its  control  of  him  soon  enough. 
******** 

"Margie,  Margie,  wake  up!"  whispered  Lucia  to 
her  slumbering  sister,  on  returning  from  the  Dinon 
party. 

"  Oh,  dear !"  drawled  the  sleeper ;  "  is  it  breakfast- 
time  so  soon?" 

"No,  you  little  goose;  but  you  want  to  hear  all 
about  the  party,  don't  you?" 

"  To  be  sure  I  do,"  said  the  sister,  with  a  long  yawn 
and  an  attempt  to  sit  up.  Miss  Margie  had  heard 
tliat  she  was  prettier  than  her  elder  sister ;  she  knew 
she  was  admired,  and  she  was  prudently  acquiring 
all  possible  knowledge  of  society  against  her  ap- 
proaching "coming  out."  "Tell  me  all  about  it. 
Who  was  there  ?"  continued  the  drowsy  girl,  rubbing 
her  eyes,  pushing  some  crinkly  hair  behind  her  ears, 
and  adjusting  some  pillows  so  that  she  might  sit 
at  ease.    Then  she  put  her  hands  behind  her  head, 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  105 

and  exclaimed,  "Why  don't  you  go  on?  I'm  all 
ears." 

Lucia  laughed  derisively  as  she  pulled  an  ear  small 
enough,  almost,  to  be  a  deformity,  then  tossed  wraps 
and  other  articles  of  attire  carelessly  about,  dropped 
into  a  low  rocker,  and  said,-r- 

"Only  the  usual  set  were  there.  I  danced  every 
dance,  of  course,  and  there  was  plenty  of  cream  and 
coffee.  Agnes  and  her  mother  know  how  to  enter- 
tain :  it's  a  real  pleasure  to  go  to  supper  there.  But 
I've  kept  the  best  to  the  last.  There  was  one  addi- 
tion to  the  usual  display  of  young  men, — a  tall, 
straight,  handsome,  manly,  awfully  stylish  fellow, 
that  set  all  the  girls'  tongues  running.  You've  seen 
him,  but  I'll  bet  you  a  pound  of  candy  that  you  can't 
guess  his  name." 

"Oh,  don't  make  me  guess  when  I'm  not  wide 
awake  yet.    Who  was  it?" 

"  It— was— Philip— Hayn  !"  said  Lucia,  so  earnestly 
that  she  seemed  almost  tragical. 

"  Lucia  Tramlay  !"  exclaimed  Margie,  dropping  her 
chin  and  staring  blankly.  "  Not  that  country  fellow 
who  used  to  drive  us  down  to  the  beach  at  Haynton  ?" 

"  The  very  same ;  but  he's  not  a  country  fellow  now. 
Upon  my  word,  I  shouldn't  have  known  him,  if  I 
hadn't  known  he  had  been  invited  and  would  proba- 
bly come.  I  was  in  terror  lest  he  would  come  dressed 
as  he  did  to  our  reception  last  week,  and  the  girls 
would  get  over  their  admiration  of  his  talk  and  tease 
me  about  him.  But  you  never  in  your  life  saw  so 
splendid-looking  a  fellow, — you  really  didn't.  And 
he  was  very  attentive  to  me :  he  had  to  be ;  I  took 


•^.. 


106  COUNTRY  LVCK. 

possession  of  him  from  the  first.  He  doesn't  dance, 
so  I  couldn't  keep  him  dangling,  but  I  had  him  to 
myself  wherever  men  could  be  most  useful.  Margie, 
what  are  you  looking  so  wooden  about?" 

"The  idea!"  said  Margie,  in  a  far-away  voice,  as 
if  her  thoughts  were  just  starting  back  from  some 
distant  point.  "That  heavy,  sober  fellow  becoming 
a  city  beau !  it's  like  Cinderella  and  the  princess. 
Do  pinch  me,  so  I  may  be  sure  I'm  not  dreaming." 

"Margie,"  whispered  Lucia,  suddenly  seating  her- 
self on  the  bedside,  and,  instead  of  the  desired  pinch, 
burying  her  cheek  on  a  pillow  close  against  her 
sister's  shoulder,  "after  he  had  put  me  into  the  car- 
riage he  kissed  my  hand, — oh,  ever  so  many  times." 

"  Why,  Lucia  Tramlay  !    Where  was  papa?" 

"  He  hadn't  come  down  yet." 

"  Goodness  !    What  did  you  say  or  do?" 

"  What  could  I  ?  Before  I  could  think  at  all,  'twas 
all  over  and  he  was  in  the  house." 

"That  country  boy  a  flirt!"  exclaimed  Margie, 
going  off  into  blankness  again. 

"He  isn't  a  flirt  at  all,"  replied  Lucia,  sharply. 
"You  ought  to  have  learned,  even  in  the  country, 
that  Philip  Hayn  is  in  earnest  in  whatever  he  says 
or  does." 

"Oh,  dear!"  moaned  Margie;  "I  don't  want 
countrymen  making  love  to  my  sister." 

"I  tell  you  again,  Margie,  that  he's  simply  a 
splendid  gentleman, — the  handsomest  and  most 
stylish  of  all  whom  Agnes  Dinon  inA^ited, — and  I 
won't  have  him  abused  when  he's  been  so  kind  to 
me." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  107 

"Lu,"  said  Margie,  turning  so  as  to  give  one  of 
Lucia's  shoulders  a  vigorous  shake,;*'!  believe  you 
think  Phil  Hayn  is  in  love  with  you  !" 

"What  else  can  I  think?"  said  Lucia,  without 
moving  her  head.  Her  sister  looked  at  her  in  silence 
a  moment,  and  replied, — 

"  A  good  deal  more,  you  dear  little  wretch  :  you  can 
think  you're  in  love  with  him,  and,  what  is  more, 
you  are  thinking  so  this  very  minute.    Confess,  now !' ' 

Lucia  was  silent;  she  did  not  move  her  head, 
except  to  press  it  deeper  into  the  pillow,  nor  did  she 
change  her  gaze  from  the  wall  on  the  opposite  side 
of  the  room  :  nevertheless,  she  manifested  undoubted 
signs  of  guilt.  Her  sister  bent  over  her,  embraced 
her,  covered  her  cheek  with  kisses,  and  called  her 
tender  names,  some  of  which  had  l>een  almost  un- 
heard since  nursery  days.  When  at  last  Lucia  al- 
lowed her  eyes  to  be  looked  into,  her  sister  took  both 
her  hands,  looked  roguish,  and  said,— 

"Say,  Lu,  how  does  it  feel  to  be  in  love?  Is  it 
anything  like  what  novels  tell  about?" 

"  Don't  ask  me,"  exclaimed  Lucia,  "  or  I  shall  have 
a  fit  of  crying  right  away." 

"Well,  I'll  let  you  off— for  a  little  while,  if  you'll 
tell  me  how  it  feels  to  have  your  hand  kissed." 

"It  feels,"  said  Lucia,  meditatively,  "as  if  some- 
thing rather  heavy  was  pressing  upon  your  glove." 

"Ah,  you're  real  mean!"  protested  the  younger 
girl.  "  But  what  will  papa  and  mamma  say  ?  And 
how  are  you  going  to  get  rid  of  Mr.  Marge?  I  give 
you  warning  that  you  needn't  turn  him  over  to  me 
when  I  come  out.    I  detest  him." 


108  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"  I  don't  want  to  get  rid  of  him,"  said  Lucia,  be- 
coming suddenly  very  sober.  *'  Of  course  I  couldn't 
marry  Phil  if  he  were  to  ask  me, — not  if  he's  going 
to  stay  poor  and  live  out  of  the  world." 

"But  you're  not  going  to  be  perfectly  awful,  and 
marry  one  man  while  you  love  another?" 

"I'm  not  going  to  marry  anybody  until  I'm 
asked,"  exclaimed  Lucia,  springing  from  the  bed, 
wringing  her  hands,  and  pacing  the  floor;  "and 
nobody  has  asked  me  yet ;  I  don't  know  that  any- 
body ever  will.  And  I'm  perfectly  miserable  ;  if  you 
say  another  word  to  me  about  it  I  shall  go  into  hys- 
terics. Nobody  ever  heard  anything  but  ,good  of 
Phil  Hayn,  either  here  or  anywhere  else,  and  if  he 
loves  me  I'm  proud  of  it,  and  I'm  going  to  love  him 
back  all  I  like,  even  if  I  have  to  break  my  heart 
afterward.  He  shan't  know  how  I  feel,  yoU  may 
rest  assured  of  that.  But  oh,  Margie,  it's  just  too 
dreadful.  Mamma  has  picked  out  Mr.  Marge  for  me, 
— who  could  love  such  a  stick?— and  she'll  be  perfectly 
crazy  if  I  marry  any  one  else,  unless  perhaps  it's 
some  one  with  a  great  deal  more  money.  I  wonder 
if  ever  a  poor  girl  was  in  such  a  perfectly  horrible 
position?" 

Margie  did  not  know,  so  both  girls  sought  consola- 
tion in  the  ever-healing  fount  of  maidenhood, — a 
good  long  cry. 


CHAPTER   XII. 

IRON  LOOKS  UP. 

The  truth  of  the  old  saying  regarding  the  reluct- 
ance of  watched  pots  to  boil  is  proved  as  well  in  busi- 
ness as  elsewhere,  as  Edgar  Tramlay  and  a  number 
of  other  men  in  the  iron  trade  had  for  some  time  been 
learning  to  their  sorrow.  Few  of  them  were 
making  any  money ;  most  of  them  were  losing  on 
interest  account,  closed  mills,  or  stock  on  hand  that 
could  not  find  purchasers.  To  know  this  was  un- 
comfortable; to  know  that  the  remainder  of  the 
business  world  knew  it  also  was  worse :  there  is  a 
sense  of  humiliation  in  merely  holding  one's  own 
for  a  long  period  which  is  infinitely  more  provoking 
and  depressing  to  a  business-man  than  an  absolute 
failure  or  assignment. 

How  closely  every  one  in  Tramlay's  business  circle 
watched  the  iron-market !  There  was  not  an  industry 
in  the  world  in  the  least  degree  dependent  upon  iron 
which  they  did  not  also  watch  closely  and  deduce 
apparent  probabilities  which  they  exchanged  with 
one  another.  The  proceedings  of  Congress,  the  re- 
sults of  elections,  the  political  movements  abroad 
that  tended  to  either  peace  or  war,  became  interest- 
ing solely  through  their  possible  infiuence  upon  the 
iron  trade.  Again  and  again  they  were  sure  that  the 
10  109 


110  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

active  and  upward  movement  was  to  begin  at  once ; 
the  opening  of  a  long-closed  mill  to  execute  a  small 
order,  even  a  longer  interval  than  usual  between  the 
closings  of  mills,  was  enough  to  lift  up  their  collect- 
ive hearts  for  a  while.  Then  all  would  become  faint- 
hearted again  when  they  reaUzed  that  they,  Uke 
Hosea  Biglow's  chanticleer,  had  been 

♦•Mistakin'  moonrise  for  the  break  o'  day." 

But  suddenly,  through  causes  that  no  one  had 
foreseen,  or  which  all  had  discounted  so  often  that 
they  had  feared  to  consider  them  again,  iron  began 
to  look  up  ;  some  small  orders,  of  a  long-absent  kind, 
began  to  creep  into  the  market,  prices  improved  a 
little  as  stock  depleted,  several  mills  made  haste  to 
open,  and  prudent  dealers,  who  had  been  keeping 
down  expenses  for  months  and  years,  now  began  to 
talk  hopefully  of  what  they  expected  to  do  in  the 
line  of  private  expenditures. 

Good  news  flies  fast ;  the  upward  tendency  of  iron 
was  soon  talked  of  in  New  York's  thousands  of  down- 
town offices,  where,  to  an  outside  observer,  talk  seems 
the  principal  industry.  Men  in  other  businesses 
that  were  depressed  began  to  consult  iron-men  who 
had  weathered  the  storms  and  endured  the  still  more 
destructive  calms  of  the  long  period  of  depression. 
Bankers  began  to  greet  iron-men  with  more  cordi- 
ality than  of  late.  Announcements  of  large  orders 
for  iron  given  by  certain  railroads  and  accepted  by 
certain  mills  began  to  appear  on  the  tapes  of  the 
thousands  of  stock-indicators  throughout  the  city. 

It  naturally  followed  that  Mr.  Marge,  to  whom  the 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  l\\ 

aforesaid  "tape"  seemed  the  breath  of  life,  began  to 
wonder  whether,  in  the  language  of  Wall  Street, 
he  had  not  a  "privilege"  upon  which  he  might 
"realize."  If  the  upward  movement  of  iron  was  to 
continue  and  become  general,  Tramlay  would  un- 
doubtedly be  among  those  who  would  benefit  by  it. 
Would  the  result  be  immediate,  or  would  Tramlay 
first  have  to  go  into  liquidation,  after  the  manner 
of  many  merchants  who  through  a  long  depression 
keep  up  an  appearance  of  business  which  is  de- 
stroyed by  the  first  opportunity  for  actual  transac- 
tions? Marge  had  long  before,  for  business  purposes, 
made  some  acquaintances  in  the  bank  with  which 
Tramlay  did  business,  but  he  did  not  dare  to  inquire 
too  pointedly  about  his  friend's  balance  and  dis- 
counts. Besides,  Marge  had  learned,  througli  the 
published  schedules  of  liabilities  of  numerous  insol- 
vents, that  some  business-men  have  a  way  of  borrow- 
ing privately  and  largely  from  relatives  and  friends. 
He  would  risk  nothing,  at  any  rate,  by  a  gentle 
and  graceful  increase  of  attention  to  Lucia.  Ho 
flattered  himself  that  he  was  quite  competent  to  avoid 
direct  proposal  until  such  time  as  might  entirely  suit 
him.  As  for  Lucia,  she  was  too  fond  of  the  pleasures 
of  the  season  just  about  to  open  to  hold  him  to  ac- 
count were  he  to  off*er  her  some  of  them.  Tlie  sug- 
gestion that  his  plans  had  a  mercenary  aspect  did 
not  escape  him,  for  even  a  slave  of  the  stock-tape 
may  have  considerable  conscience  and  self-respect. 
He  explained  to  himself  that  he  did  not  esteem  Lucia 
solely  for  her  possible  expectations ;  she  was  good, 
pretty,  vivacious,  ornamental,  quite  intelligent— for 


112  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

a  girl,  and  he  had  an  honest  tenderness  for  her  as  the 
daughter  of  a  woman  he  had  really  loved  many 
years  before,  and  might  have  won  had  he  not  been 
too  deliberate.  But  his  income  was  not  large  enough 
to  support  the  establishment  he  would  want  as  a 
married  man,  so  he  would  have  to  depend  to  a  cer- 
tain extent  upon  his  wife,  or  upon  her  father.  It 
was  solely  with  this  view,  he  explained  to  himself, 
that  he  had  made  careful  reconnoissances  in  other 
directions :  if  some  ladies  who  would  have  been  ac- 
ceptable— Miss  Agnes  Dinon,  for  instance — had  not 
been  able  to  estimate  him  rightly  as  a  matrimonial 
candidate,  he  was  sure  that  they  as  well  as  he  had 
been  losers  through  their  lack  of  perception.  As 
matters  now  stood,  Lucia  was  his  only  apparent 
chance  in  the  circle  where  he  belonged  and  pre- 
ferred to  remain.  His  purpose  to  advance  his  suit  was 
quickened,  within  a  very  few  days,  by  the  announce- 
ment on  the  tape  that  a  rolling-mill  in  which  he  knew 
Tramlay  was  largely  interested  had  received  a  very 
large  order  for  railroad-iron  and  would  open  at  once. 

But  indications  that  iron  was  looking  up  were  not 
restricted  to  the  business-portion  of  the  city.  Tram- 
lay,  who,  like  many  another  hard-headed  business- 
man, lived  solely  for  his  family,  had  delighted  his 
wife  and  daughters  by  announcing  that  they  might 
have  a  long  run  on  the  continent  the  next  year. 
And  one  morning  at  breakfast  he  exclaimed, — 

"  Do  any  of  you  know  where  that  young  Hayn  is 
stopping  ?    I  want  him. ' ' 

"  Why,  Edgar  !"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

"What  are  you  going  to  do  to  him,  papa?"  asked 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  113 

Margie,  seeing  that  Lucia  wanted  to  know  but  did 
not  seem  able  to  ask. 

"  I  want  another  clerk,"  was  the  reply,  •*  and  I  be- 
lieve Hayn  is  just  my  man.  I  can  teach  him  quickly 
all  he  needs  to  know,  and  I  want  some  one  who  I  am 
sure  hasn't  speculation  on  the  brain,  nor  any  other 
bad  habits.  That  young  Hayn  commands  respect — 
from  me,  at  any  rate :  I  used  to  find  down  in  the 
country  that  he,  like  his  father,  knew  better  than  I 
what  was  going  on  in  the  world.  I  believe  he'll 
make  a  first-rate  business-man ;  I'm  willing  to  try 
him,  at  any  rate." 

Margie  stole  a  glance  at  Lucia :  that  young  lady 
was  looking  at  a  chicken  croquette  as  intently  as  if 
properly  to  manage  such  a  morsel  with  a  fork  re- 
quired alert  watchfulness. 

"The  idea  of  a  farmer's  boy  in  a  New  York  mer- 
chant's counting-room  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

**  You  seem  to  forget,  my  dear,  that  nearly  all  the 
successful  merchants  in  New  York  were  once  country 
boys,  and  that  all  the  new  men  who  are  making 
their  mark  are  from  everywhere  but  New  York 
itself." 

"If  young  Hayn  is  as  sensible  as  you  think  him, 
he  will  probably  be  wise  enough  to  decline  your  off'er 
and  go  back  to  his  father's  farm.  You  youi-self 
used  to  say  that  you  would  rather  be  in  their  busi- 
ness than  your  own." 

"Bright  woman  !"  replied  Tramlay,  with  a  smile 

and  a  nod  ;  "  but  I  wouldn't  have  thought  so  at  his 

age,  and  I  don't  believe  Hayn  will.    I  can  afford  to 

pay  him  as  much  as  that  farm  earns  in  a  year,— say 

h  10 


114  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

fifteen  hundred  dollars;  and  I  don't  believe  he'll 
decline  that  amount  of  money  ;  'twill  enable  him  to 
take  care  of  himself  in  good  bachelor  style  and  save 
something  besides.  I'm  sure,  too,  he'd  like  to  re- 
main in  the  city :  country  youths  always  do,  after 
they  have  a  taste  of  it." 

Again  Margie  glanced  at  Lucia,  but  the  chicken 
croquette  continued  troublesome,  and  no  responsive 
glance  came  back. 

"He  had  far  better  be  at  home,"  persisted  Mrs. 
Tramlay,  "where  the  Lord  put  him  in  the  first 
place." 

"Well,"  said  Tramlay,  finishing  a  cup  of  coffee, 
"  if  the  Lord  had  meant  every  one  to  remain  where 
he  was  born,  I  don't  believe  he  would  have  given 
each  person  a  pair  of  feet.  And  what  a  sin  it  must 
be  to  make  railroad-iron,  which  tempts  and  aids 
hundreds  of  thousands  of  people  to  move  about !" 

"Don't  be  irreverent,  Edgar,  and,  above  all  things, 
try  not  to  be  ridiculous,"  said  the  lady  of  the  house. 
"And  when  you've  spoiled  this  youth  and  he  goes 
back  to  home  a  disappointed  man,  don't  forget  that 
you  were  warned  in  time." 

"  Spoiled?  That  sort  of  fellow  don't  spoil ;  not  if 
I'm  any  judge  of  human  nature.  Why,  if  he  should 
take  a  notion  to  the  iron  trade,  there's  nothing  to  pre- 
vent him  becoming  a  merchant  prince  some  day,— a 
young  Napoleon  of  steel  rails,  or  angle-iron,  or  some- 
thing. Like  enough  I'll  be  glad  some  time  to  get 
him  to  endorse  my  note." 

Once  more  Margie's  eyes  sought  her  sister's,  but 
Lucia  seemed  to  have  grown  near-sighted  over  that 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  115 

chicken  croquette,  for  Margie  could  see  only  a  tiny 
nose-tip  under  a  tangle  of  yellow  hair. 

**  My  capacity  for  nonsense  is  lessening  as  I  grow 
older,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay.  "  I'll  have  to  ask  you  to 
excuse  me."  Then,  with  the  air  of  an  overworked 
conservator  of  dignity,  the  lady  left  the  dining-room. 

"Excuse  me,  too,"  said  her  husband,  a  moment 
later,  after  looking  at  his  watch.  "Conversation  is 
the  thief  of  time — in  the  early  morning.  Good-by, 
children." 

Margie  sprang  from  her  chair  and  threw  her  arms 
around  her  father's  neck.  She  was  a  fairly  affec- 
tionate daughter,  but  such  exuberance  came  only 
by  fits  and  starts,  and  it  was  not  the  sort  of  thing 
that  any  father  with  a  well-regulated  heart  cares  to 
hurry  away  from,  even  when  business  is  looking  up. 
When  finally  Tramlay  was  released,  he  remarked, — 

"I  used  to  have  two  daughters :— eh,  Lu?" 

Lucia  arose,  approached  her  father  softly  and  with 
head  down,  put  her  arms  around  him,  and  rested 
her  head  on  his  breast  as  she  had  not  often  done  in 
late  years,  except  after  a  conflict  and  the  attendant 
reconciliation.  Her  father  gave  her  a  mighty  squeeze, 
flattened  a  few  crimps  and  waves  that  had  cost  some 
effort  to  produce,  and  finally  said,— 

"  I  mxLst  be  off".    Give  me  a  kiss,  Lu." 

The  girl's  face  did  not  upturn  promptly,  so  the 
merchant  assisted  it.  His  hands  were  strong  and 
Lucia's  neck  was  slender,  yet  it  took  some  eflbrt  to 
force  that  little  head  to  a  kissable  pose.  When  the 
father  succeeded,  he  exclaimed,— 

''What  a  splendid  complexion  October  air  brings 


116  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

to  a  girl  who's  spent  the  summer  in  the  country  I 
There ;  good-by." 

Away  went  Tramlay  to  his  business.  The  instant 
he  was  out  of  the  room  Margie  snatched  Lucie  in  her 
arms  and  the  couple  waltzed  madly  about,  regardless 
of  the  fact  that  the  floor  of  a  New  York  dining-room 
has  about  as  little  unencumbered  area  as  that  of  the 
smallest  apartment  in  a  tenement-house. 


CHAPTER   XIII. 

"WHIIiB  YET  AFAR  OFF.'* 

Thinner  and  thinner  became  the  roll  of  bank- 
notes in  Philip  Hayn'a  pocket;  nearer  and  nearer 
came  the  day  when  he  must  depart  from  the  city, — 
depart  without  any  liope  that  he  might  ever  return. 
The  thought  was  intolerable ;  but  wliat  could  be  done 
to  banish  it?  He  might  again,  and  several  times, 
make  excuses  to  leave  home  and  come  to  New  York 
for  a  day  or  two,  perhaps  on  Sol  Mantring's  sloop, 
and  keep  up  after  a  fashion  the  acquaintance  he  had 
made,  but  to  remain  in  the  city  any  length  of  time, 
and  spend  money  as  he  had  been  doing,  was  not  to 
be  thought  of :  the  money  could  not  be  taken  from 
the  family  purse,  or  saved  in  any  way  that  he  could 
devise. 

Oh  that  he  might  speculate !  Oh  that  the  people 
who  had  thought  of  Hayn  Farm  as  a  site  for  a  cot- 
tage village  would  make  haste  to  decide  and  pur- 
chase, so  the  family's  property  might  be  in  money 
instead  of  land, — solid  earth,  which  could  not  be 
spent  while  in  its  earthy  condition.  Oh  that  he 
might  at  least  find  occupation  in  New  York;  he 
would  deny  himself  anything  for  the  sake  of  re- 
placing himself  on  the  farm  by  a  laborer,  who  would 
be  fully  as  useful  with  two  hands  as  he,  if  he  might 

117 


118  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

remain  in  the  city.  Why  had  he  never  had  the 
sense  to  study  any  business  but  farming?  Tliere 
were  two  stores  and  a  factory  at  Haj^nton ;  had  he 
taken  employment  in  either  of  these,  as  he  had  been 
invited  to  do,  he  might  have  learned  something  that 
would  be  of  avail  in  New  York. 

But,  alas  !  it  was  too  late.  He  must  go  back  to  the 
farm, — go  away  from  Lucia.  How  should  he  say 
farewell  to  her?  Could  he  ask  her  to  accept  an 
occasional  letter  from  him,  and  to  reply?  Would 
the  Tramlays  want  to  spend  the  next  summer  at 
Hajm  Farm,  he  wondered  ?  Should  they  come,  and 
Lucia  see  him  carrying  a  pail  of  pea-pods  to  the  pig- 
sty, or  starting  off  with  oil-skins  and  a  big  black 
basket  for  a  day's  fishing  off  shore,  would  not  her 
pretty  Up  curl  in  disdain  ?  Or  if  the  family  wanted 
to  go  to  the  beach  for  a  bath,  would  he  come  in  from 
the  fields  in  faded  cotton  shirt  and  trousers  and  band- 
less  old  straw  hat  to  drive  them  down  ? 

No ;  none  of  these  things  should  occur.  The  Tram- 
lays  should  not  again  board  at  Hayn  Farm,  unless 
he  could  manage  in  some  way  to  be  away  from  home 
at  the  time.  He  would  oppose  it  with  all  his  might. 
And,  yet,  what  could  he  say  by  way  of  explanation 
to  his  parents?  There  are  some  things  that  one  can- 
not explain, — not  if  one  is  a  young  man  who  has 
suddenly  had  his  head  turned  by  change  of  scene. 

How  he  should  say  farewell  to  Lucia  troubled  him 
a  great  deal,  particularly  as  the  time  was  approaching 
rapidly.  To  tell  her  of  his  love  would  be  unmanly, 
while  he  was  unable  to  carry  love  forward  to  its 
natural  fruition ;  but,  on  the  other  hand,  would  it 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  119 

be  right  for  him  t<i  take  mere  friendly  leave  after 
having  betrayed  himself  over  her  hand  at  the  car- 
riage window?  And  if  her  manifestations  of  jeal- 
ousy at  the  Dinon  party  meant  anything  more  tlian 
mere  desire  to  monopolize  his  attention,  would  she 
not  hate  him  if  he  went  away  without  some  expres- 
sion of  tenderness  ? 

The  longer  he  cudgelled  his  wits,  the  more  inactive 
they  became.  He  resolved  to  call  at  once,  and  trust 
to  chance,  and  perhaps  a  merciful  Providence,  to  help 
him  to  a  proper  leave-taking.  He  wondered  if  she 
would  be  at  home:  he  had  heard  her  recapitulate 
a  succession  of  engagements  which  seemed  to  him 
to  dispose  of  a  week  of  afternoons  and  evenings. 
He  would  seek  her  father,  and  ask  him  when  Lucia 
could  be  found  at  home.  He  acted  at  once  upon  the 
impulse,  but  Tramlay  was  not  at  his  office.  As  the 
time  was  about  noon,  Phil  strolled  to  the  restaurant 
to  which  the  iron-merchant  had  taken  him.  Tram- 
lay  was  not  there,  so  the  young  man  took  a  seat 
and  ordered  luncheon.  Just  as  it  was  served,  Marge 
passed  him,  without  seeing  him,  and  a  young  man 
at  a  table  behind  Phil  said  to  his  companion,— 

*'  That  Marge  is  a  lucky  dog.  Have  you  heard  that 
he's  going  to  marry  Tramlay 's  daughter?  She'll  be 
rich :  iron  is  looking  up." 

**Is  that  so?"  asked  the  other.  "When  did  it 
come  out?" 

"I  don't  know  whether  it's  announced  yet,"  was 
the  reply,  '*  but  one  of  the  fellows  at  the  bank  told 
me,  and  I  suppose  he  got  it  from  Marge  :  he  knows 
him  very  well." 


120  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Phil's  appetite  departed  at  ouce :  it  seemed  to  him 
his  life  would  accompany  it.  His  mind  was  in  a 
daze  ;  his  heart  was  like  lead.  His  feelings  reached 
his  face,  and,  abstracted  and  stupid  though  he  felt, 
he  could  not  help  seeing  that  he  w*as  attracting 
attention,  so  he  paid  his  bill,  went  out,  and  hurried 
along  the  street.  The  first  distinct  impression  of 
which  he  was  conscious  was  that  there  need  no  longer 
be  any  doubt  about  how  to  say  good-by  to  Lucia  ;  a 
formal  courteous  note  would  suffice :  he  would  not 
trust  himself  to  meet  her.  Could  he  blame  her  ?  No: 
he  certainly  had  no  claim  upon  her  heart,  nor  any 
reason  to  really  believe  she  had  regarded  him  as 
more  than  a  pleasant  acquaintance.  She  had  let  liim 
kiss  her  hand  ;  but  had  not  she  herself  taught  him 
that  this  was  merely  an  old-time  form  of  salutation  ? 
She  had  the  right  to  marry  whom  she  would ;  yet 

Marge The  thought  of  that  man— that  lazy, 

listless,  cold,  dry  stick — being  bound  for  life  to  a 
merry,  sensitive  soul  like  Lucia  drove  him  almost 
mad. 

Well,  the  blow  was  a  blessing  in  one  way :  now  he 
could  go  back  to  the  farm  without  any  fears  or  hesi- 
tation. Go  back  ?— yes,  he  would  hasten  back  :  he 
could  not  too  soon  put  behind  him  the  city  and  all 
its  memories.  After  all,  it  was  not  the  city  he  had 
dreaded  to  leave  ;  it  was  Lucia,  and  whatever  through 
her  seemed  necessary.  Now  that  she  must  be  for- 
gotten, all  else  might  go.  He  would  go  back  to  the 
hotel,  pack  his  clothes, — how  he  longed  for  the  money 
they  had  cost  him  !— write  a  line  to  Lucia,  and  take 
the  first  train  for  home.    Home  !    How  shamefully 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  121 

he  had  forgotten  it  in  the  past  fortnight  I  Perhaps 
this  disappointment  was  his  punishment:  if  so, 
although  severe,  it  was  no  more  tlian  just.  Home  ! 
Wliy,  he  would  rejoice  to  be  once  more  inside  his 
dirty  oil-skin  fishing-clothes, — to  obliterate  the  city 
man  he  had  been  aping  for  a  fortnight.  Heaven  had 
evidently  intended  him  to  be  a  drudge :  well,  heaven's 
will  should  be  done. 

Thus  reasoned  the  spirit;  but  the  flesh  did  not 
rapidly  conform  to  its  leader's  will.  Phil's  teeth  and 
lips  were  twitching  ;  he  felt  it  was  so  ;  he  noticed  that 
people  stared  at  him,  just  as  they  did  while  he  was 
in  the  restaurant.  This  at  least  he  could  escape,  and 
he  would :  so  he  turned  into  the  first  side-street,  to 
avoid  the  throng.  Within  a  moment  he  feared  he 
was  losing  his  reason,  for  it  seemed  to  him  that 
people  were  pursuing  him.  There  certainly  was  an 
unusual  clatter  of  hurrying  feet  behind  him,  but — 
pshaw.  I — it  was  probably  a  crowd  running  to  a  fire 
or  a  fight.  The  noise  increased  ;  several  wild  yells 
arose,  and  some  one  sliouted,  "Stop  thief!"  Then 
Phil's  heart  stopped  beating,  for  a  heavy  hand  fell 
on  his  shoulder.  He  started  violently  aside,  but  there 
was  no  shaking  off  the  grasp  of  that  heavy  hand : 
he  looked  wildly  around,  and  into  the  eyes  of  his 
father. 

"  Bless  you,  old  boy,  how — how  fast  you  do  walk  !" 
panted  the  old  man.  "  I  was  'way  up — on  the  other 
side  of  the  road  when— when  I  saw  you  turnin' 
down  here.  Sol  Mantring  said  I  wouldn't  know 
you — if  I  saw  you.  Why— I  knowed  you  at  first 
sight." 

r  11 


122  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"Wot's  he  done?"  bleated  a  small  boy  in  front, 
for  the  crowd  had  already  surrounded  the  couple. 

**  What's  who  done?"  asked  the  old  man,  angrily, 
after  he  had  looked  around  and  seen  the  crowd. 
"  Why,  you  tarnal  loafers,  can't  a  man  run  down  the 
road  to  catch  up  with  his  own  son  without  you 
thinkin'  there's  somethin'  wrong?  I've  heerd  that 
in  New  York  ev'ry  man  suspects  ev'ry  other  man  of 
bein'  a  thief.  Git  out !  go  about  your  business,  if 
you've  got  any." 

The  crowd,  looking  sadly  disappointed  and  dis- 
gusted, slowly  dispersed,  one  very  red-faced  man 
remarking  that  the  entire  proceeding  had  been 
"adurned  skin." 

The  father  and  son  walked  along  until  compara- 
tively alone ;  then  the  father  said, — 

**  Somethin's  wrong,  old  boy.    What  is  it?" 

Phil  did  not  reply. 

**  Out  of  money,  an'  afraid  to  send  me  word  ?" 

"No,"  Phil  replied. 

" Then  it's  ^er,  eh?" 

Phil  nodded.  His  father  squeezed  his  hand,  and 
after  a  moment  continued, — 

"  Proposed  to  her,  an'  been  refused?" 

"  No,"  said  Phil :  **  another  man  has  proposed,  and 
been  accepted." 

"Dear!  dear!"  sighed  the  old  man.  "An'  she's 
dead  in  love  with  him,  I  s'pose?" 

"  I  never  saw  any  sign  of  it,"  said  Phil,  his  face 
wrinkling.  "  I  don't  see  how  she  can :  he's  a  dry 
old  stick." 

"Rich?'» 


COUNTRY  LUCK,  123 

"  Ura-m— I  don't  know,"  said  Phil. 

"Know  him?" 

"Yes,  a  little.  Mr.  Tramlay  says  he  lives  on  his 
income." 

"Easy  enough  for  a  bachelor  to  do  that  in  New 
York,"  said  the  old  man,  "an'  still  not  have  much." 

They  walked  in  silence  a  few  minutes ;  then  the 
old  man  continued,— 

"Sure  you  weren't  mistaken,  bub?" 

"About  what?" 

"Sure  you  reelly  fell  in  love?  Sure  you  warn't 
only  in  a  fit  of  powerful  admiration  ?  Lots  of  young 
fellers  get  took  in  that  way  an'  spend  a  lifetime  bein' 
sorry  for  it." 

Phil  shook  his  head. 

"She's  mighty  good-lookin' ;  I  know  it.  I  can 
take  in  the  p'ints  of  a  gal  as  good  as  if  she  was  a  colt. 
Good  stock  in  her,  too  ;  that  father  of  hern  is  full  of 
grit  an'  go,  an'  her  mother's  a  lady.  Still,  you 
might  have  been  kind  o'  upset,  an'  not  knowed  your 
own  mind  as  well  as  you  might." 

"Father,"  said  Phil,  "you  remember  what  you've 
often  said  about  your  horse  Black  Billy  ? — *  There's 
only  one  horse  in  the  world,  and  that's  Billy.'  Well, 
for  me  there's  only  one  girl  in  the  world,— Lucia." 

"That's  the  Hayn  blood,  all  over,"  said  the  old 
man,  with  a  laugh  that  grated  harshly  on  Phil's  ear. 

"  And  I've  lost  her,"  Phil  continued.  "  Don't  let's 
talk  about  her  any  more.    Don't  remind  me  of  her." 

"Don't  remind  you?"  shouted  the  old  man,  stop- 
ping short  on  the  sidewalk.  "  See  here,  young  man," 
the  father  continued,  shaking  his  forefinger  impres- 


124  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

sively,  "  if  I  was  you,  an'  felt  like  you,  do  you  know 
what  rd  do?" 

"No,"  said  Phil,  amazed  at  this  demonstration  by 
a  man  whom  he  scarcely  ever  had  seen  excited. 

''Well,  sir,  I'd  stay  right  on  the  ground,  an'  I'd 
cut  that  other  feller  out,  or  I'd  die  a-tryin'.  You'll 
never  be  good  for  anythin'  if  you  don't  do  one  thing 
or  t'other." 

Phil  smiled  feebly,  and  replied,  "  You  don't  under- 
stand :  there  are  a  great  many  obstacles  that  I  can't 
explain." 

"  '  There's  a  lion  in  the  way,  says  the  slothful  man  : 
I  shall  be  slain,'  "  quoted  the  old  man,  from  the  Book 
which  he  had  accepted  as  an  all-sufficient  guide  to 
faith  and  practice. 

"  I've  made  a  fool  of  myself,"  said  Phil,  sullenly, 
"and  I  want  to  go  home  and  take  my  punishment. 
I  want  to  go  by  the  first  train  I  can  get.  I've  a 
long  list  of  things  I've  promised  to  buy  for  dif- 
ferent people,  but  I  can't  endure  New  York  another 
day." 

The  old  man  studied  his  son's  face  keenly  for  a 
while,  as  they  resumed  their  walk;  then  he  said, 
gently,— 

"  Perhaps  it's  best  that  way.  Go  ahead.  Give  me 
your  list,  an'  I'll  'tend  to  it.  I'll  take  a  day  or  two 
in  New  York  myself:  it's  a  long  time  since  I  had 
one.    Give  us  the  list ;  and  get  out." 

Phil  fumbled  in  his  pockets  for  the  memoranda 
that  he  had  neglected  so  long.  Then  a  new  fear 
came  to  him,  and  he  said, — 

"Father,  you  know  about  everything,  and  can  do 


COUNTRY  LUCK,  125 

almost  anything  you  attempt,  but  don't  go  to  trying 

to  mend  this  wretched  affair  of  mine :  If  I " 

**  Wliat?"  interrupted  the  old  man.  "  Meddle  in  a 
love-scrape  ?  Have  I  got  to  be  this  old  to  be  suspected 
by  my  son  of  bein'  an  old  fool?  No,  sir;  I  never 
did  any  love-makin'  except  for  myself,  an'  I'm  not 
goin'  to  begin  now.  You  go  home  an'  brace  up ;  I 
reckon  you  need  a  mouthful  of  country  air  to  set 
your  head  right.'' 


11* 


CHAPTER   XIV. 

GOING  HOME. 

Philip  Hayn  accounted  it  a  special  mercy  of 
Providence  tliat  the  impulse  to  leave  New  York 
had  been  so  timed  tliat  the  train  which  he  cauglit 
would  land  him  at  Haynton  Station  after  dark.  He 
did  not  feel  like  seeing  old  acquaintances  that  day  ; 
he  felt  that  his  face  was  being  a  persistent,  detesta- 
ble tell-tale,  and  that  he  could  not  train  and  com- 
mand it  while  so  busy  with  his  thoughts.  If  seen 
at  all,  he  intended  to  offer  as  few  suggestions  for  re- 
mark as  possible :  so,  before  leaving  his  hotel,  he 
divested  himself  of  every  visible  trace  of  city  rai- 
nient,  and  clothed  himself  in  the  Sunday  suit  which 
Haynton  had  seen  often  enough  to  pass  without 
remark.  He  could  not  restore  his  shorn  superfluity 
of  hair,  but  he  again  put  on  the  hat  which  for  a 
year  had  been  his  best  at  home.  He  even  went  so 
far  as  to  leave  for  his  father  a  new  trunk  which  he 
had  purchased,  putting  his  own  personal  property 
into  the  antique  carpet-bag — real  carpet— which  the 
old  farmer  had  brought  down.  Lastly,  that  he 
might  not  appear  in  the  least  like  a  city  youth,  he 
carried  with  him  two  religious  weeklies  which  some 
society  for  the  reformation  of  hotel-boarders  had 
126 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  127 

caused  to  be  placed  in  his  box  in  the  hotel-office,  and 
he  read  them  quite  faithfully  on  the  train. 

Reminders  of  the  old  life  to  which  he  was  return- 
ing came  to  him  thick  and  fast  when  the  train  got 
fairly  out  of  the  city.  In  a  field  he  saw  a  man 
stripping  the  leaves  from  standing  corn-stalks,  and 
although  the  view  was  what  photographers  term 
"instantaneous,"  it  was  long  enough  to  show  the 
shabby  attire,  brown  face,  shocking  bad  hat,  clumsy 
boots,  and  general  air  of  resignation  that  marked  all 
farmers  in  the  vicinity  of  Haynton.  Two  or  three 
miles  farther  along  he  saw  a  half-grown  boy  picking 
up  stones  in  a  field  of  thin  soil  and  adding  them  to 
piles  which  were  painfully  significant  of  much  sim- 
ilar work  in  past  days. 

Down  in  a  marshy  pasture  beside  the  railway- 
embankment  two  men  were  digging  a  drainage- 
ditch  :  they  were  too  far  apart  to  be  company  for 
each  other,  and  too  muddy  to  be  attractive  to  them- 
selves. Phil  at  once  recalled  much  work  of  like 
nature  he  had  done,  and  more  that  still  depended 
upon  his  muscle  to  make  the  entire  acreage  of  Hayn 
farm  available  for  cultivation.  Estimating  accord- 
ing to  past  experience  and  newly-acquired  knowl- 
edge, he  found  that  the  number  of  days  of  work 
required,  if  paid  for  at  the  lowest  rate  of  common 
laborers  in  New  York,  would  amount  to  twice  as 
much  as  the  value  of  the  land  when  improved.  It  was 
easy  to  see  why  farmers  never  got  rich.  Still,  the 
farm  was  his  natural  sphere  ;  he  had  been  born  to  it. 
Heaven,  in  arranging  his  life-career,  knew  in  ad- 
vance what  he  was  fit  for,  and  his  own  difference  of 


128  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

opinion  would  probably  be  explained  away  in  time 
by  the  logic  of  events  which  he  could  not  foresee. 

In  a  dusty  road  near  a  little  station  at  which  the 
train  stopped  he  saw  two  farmers'  wagons  meet,  stop, 
and  their  owners  engage  in  conversation.  Thus 
would  he,  the  observer,  soon  be  obtaining  whatever 
news  he  acquired ;  instead  of  every  morning  open- 
ing a  newspaper  recording  the  previous  day's  doings 
throughout  the  civilized  world,  he  would  be  re- 
stricted to  stories  of  how  Joddles's  horse,  who  had 
cast  himself,  was  getting  along  with  his  scraped  hip- 
joint,  and  when  Bragfew  thought  he  might  be  likely 
to  kill  a  beef  if  he  could  find  somebody  to  take  a 
forequarter  which  hadn't  been  spoken  for  yet,  tlie 
chances  of  Nemy  Perkins  being  *' churched"  for 
calling  Deacon  Thewser  a  sneaking  old  sheep-thief, 
and  much  more  information  equally  entertaining 
and  instructive.  Well,  why  not?  What  better  news 
would  he  himself  be  likely  to  offer?  He  was  not 
going  to  fall  into  the  sin,  warning  of  which  had 
been  given  by  one  of  the  apostles,  of  esteeming  him- 
self more  highly  than  his  neighbors :  some  people  in 
the  vicinity  of  Haynton  did  not  seem  much  better 
than  fools,  but  probably  none  of  them  had  ever  been 
so  idiotic  as  to  fall  in  love  with  women  far  above 
them  in  social  station  and  consequently  far  beyond 
their  reach. 

Farther  and  farther  the  train  left  the  city  behind  ; 
more  and  more  desolate  the  country  appeared.  It 
was  late  October ;  all  crops  had  been  harvested,  and 
many  trees  had  shed  all  their  leaves  ;  the  only  green 
was  that  of  grass  and  evergreens,  the  latter  looking 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  129 

almost  funereal  under  the  overcast  sky.  The  train 
entered  a  region  of  pine-barrens,  through  openings  in 
which  some  sand-dunes  could  occasionally  be  seen. 
At  times  when  the  train  stopped  the  wind  brought 
up  the  sound  of  the  surf,  pounding  the  beach  not  far 
away,  and  the  noise  was  not  as  cheering  as  Phil  had 
often  thought  it  in  earlier  days. 

Tlien  empty  seats  in  the  cars  became  numerous. 
All  city  people  who  lived  out  of  town  had  already 
left  the  train,  and  the  few  who  got  on  afterward 
belonged  in  the  vicinage.  Phil  had  noted  the  change 
as  it  gradually  occurred,  and  to  a  well-dressed  couple, 
the  last  of  their  kind,  who  occupied  seats  not  far  in 
front  of  him,  his  gaze  clung  as  mournfully  as  a 
toper's  eye  when  fixed  upon  the  last  drops  that  his 
bottle  can  give  him.  Finally  they  too  disappeared, 
and  their  place  was  taken  by  a  sallow  country- 
woman in  a  home-made  brown  dress  and  a  gray 
bonnet  trimmed  with  green  ribbons.  He  tried  to 
console  himself  with  the  thought  that  the  car  would 
soon  be  too  dark  for  colors  to  be  annoying,  and  that 
Haynton  was  but  an  hour  distant.  Then  the  bril- 
liant thought  came  to  him  that  he  might  change  the 
scene.  He  acted  upon  it,  went  into  the  next  car,  and 
took  a  seat.  The  rustic  in  front  of  him  turned  his 
head,  stared,  and  drawled, — 

"  Gret  Gosh  !  Ef  it  ain't  Phil  Hayn,  then  I'm  a 
clam-shell !  Well,  I'd  never  have  knowed  ye  ef 
twa'n't  for  your  father's  mouth  an'  chin."  Then 
the  rustic  deliberately  gathered  his  feet  and  knees 
into  his  seat,  and  twisted  his  body  until  his  shoulders 
were  almost  squared  to  the  rear  of  the  car,  his  whole 


130  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

air  being  that  of  a  man  who  had  suddenly  found  a 
job  greatly  to  his  liking,  and  one  to  which  he  in- 
tended at  once  to  address  himself  with  all  his  might. 

"Been  down  to  York,  eh?"  the  rustic  continued, 
after  getting  his  frame  satisfactorily  braced. 

"Yes." 

The  rustic  looked  so  steadily,  earnestly,  hungrily 
into  the  face  before  him  that  Phil  hastily  looked 
through  the  window.  Some  men  have  been  im- 
pressed by  the  historic  "  stony  Britisli  stare,"  others 
have  admired  the  penetrating  glance  of  the  typical 
detective,  or  the  frontiersman  "sizing  up"  a  new 
arrival ;  but  the  Briton,  the  detective,  and  the  fron- 
tiersman combined  could  not  equal  the  stare  of  the 
countryman  whose  tastes  tend  toward  the  affairs  of 
his  neighbors. 

"  York's  a  good  deal  of  a  town,  I  s'pose,"  the  coun- 
tryman remarked,  after  some  earnest  scrutiny. 

"Yes." 

"Find  anythin'  to  pay  the  'xpenses  of  the  trip?" 
This  after  another  soulful  gaze. 

"  Shouldn't  wonder." 

"Carpet-bag  seems  pooty  well  stuffed,"  said  the 
tormentor,  after  having  transferred  his  glance  for  a 
moment  to  the  old  satchel  that  occupied  half  of  Phil's 
seat. 

"Mother  wanted  a  few  things  that  she  couldn't 
find  at  any  of  our  stores,"  said  Phil. 

"See  anybody  ye  knowed?"  was  the  next  ques- 
tion, after  the  stare  had  returned  to  its  principal 
duty. 

"Not  much,"  Phil  replied,  with  a  shiver,  well 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  131 

How  did  your 
turnips  average  on  that  new  ground,  Mr.  Bloke?" 

"Only  so-so.  Ye  put  up  at  old — what  the  some- 
thin'  was  his  name? — oh,  Trammerly— ye  stopped 
with  him,  I  s'pose?" 

"Of  course  not.  Mr.  Tramlay  doesn't  take 
boarders." 

**Ort  to  hev  been  willin'  to  take  ye  in  for  a  few 
days,  though,  I  should  think,  considerin'.  Didn't 
he  even  offer  to  ?" 

"No.  Why  should  he?"  asked  Phil,  beginning  to 
lose  his  temper.  "He  paid  his  way  while  he  was 
here ;  I  paid  mine  in  New  York." 

"  Oh  !"  drawled  the  rustic ;  then  he  put  on  a  judi- 
cial air,  and  devoted  two  or  three  minutes  to  ana- 
lyzing Phil's  statement  and  logic.  Either  accepting 
both,  or  mentally  noting  an  exception  for  future  use, 
he  continued, — 

"  His  gal's  as  pooty  as  ever,  I  s'pose?" 

"Which  one?" 

The  questioner's  gaze  changed  somewhat ;  by  vari- 
ous complicated  twitches  he  slowly  worked  the  blank- 
ness  out  of  his  face  and  replaced  it  by  an  attempt  at 
a  smile ;  then  he  slowly  extended  a  long  arm  over 
the  back  of  the  seat,  and  unfolded  a  massive  fore- 
finger, which  he  thrust  violently  into  the  region  of 
Phil's  vest-pocket  as  with  a  leer  he  exclaimed, — 

"Kee!" 

"  Don't  be  a  jackass !"  exclaimed  Phil,  frowning 
angrily  at  the  fellow.  Instead  of  being  abashed,  the 
boor  seemed  highly  delighted,  and  exclaimed,  in 
somewhat  the  accent  of  the  animal  Phil  had  named,— 


132  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"  Haw,  haw,  haw !    Give  ye  the  mitten,  did  she  ?" 

"It'll  be  time  for  any  girl  to  give  me  the  mitten 
when  I  give  her  the  chance,  Mr.  Bloke,"  said  Phil, 
picking  up  his  bag  and  starting  toward  another  seat. 

"  Oh,  set  down  ;  I  didn't  think  ye  was  the  kind  o' 
feller  to  go  an'  git  mad  at  an  old  neighbor  that's  only 
showin'  a  friendly  interest  in  ye,"  said  the  man,  in 
tones  of  reproach.  "  Set  down.  Why,  I  hain't  asked 
ye  half  what  I  want  to  ;  you've  gone  an'  put  a  lot  of 
it  out  of  my  head,  too,  by  flyin'  off  of  the  handle  in 
that  way." 

"Haynton!"  shouted  the  conductor,  as  the  train 
stopped  with  a  crash.  Phil  hastily  rose  ;  so  did  his 
tormentor,  whose  face  was  an  absolute  agony  of 
appeal  as  he  said, — 

"  Lemme  help  ye  up  to  the  house  with  yer  bag. 
I  jist  remembered  that  Naomi  has  been  at  me  for  a 
week  to  ask  your  mother  somethin'  when  I  druv  by. 
Might  ez  well  do  it  to-night  as  any  time  :  then  I  can 
give  ye  a  friendly  lift." 

"I'm  not  going  to  walk  out  home,"  said  Phil, 
hastily,  "if  I  can " 

"Well,  I'd  jest  as  lieve  ride,"  said  the  man. 

"  Two  men  and  a  driver  and  a  big  bag  aren't  going 
to  squeeze  into  a  buggy  with  seats  for  only  two,"  if  I 
can  help  it,"  said  Phil. 

"  Say,"  whispered  the  native,  confidentially,  as  the 
two  reached  the  platform,  "  I  b'lieve  I  know  where  I 
can  borry  a  team  as  easy  as  fallin'  off  of  a  log.  Jest 
you  stand  here  a  minute  or  two, — all  the  boys  is  dyin' 
to  see  you,— an'  I'll  hook  up  an'  be  back." 

The  man  disappeared  with  great  rapidity,  for  a 


COUNTRY  LUCK,  133 

being  of  his  structural  peculiarities.  Phil  looked 
quickly  about,  dashed  across  the  track  and  under 
some  sheltering  trees  in  a  small  uulighted  street,  then 
he  made  a  d6tour  through  the  outskirts  of  the  little 
village  to  reach,  without  being  observed,  the  road  to 
his  father's  farm.  The  sound  of  an  approaching 
wagon  caused  him  to  hide  quickly  behind  a  clump 
of  wild  blackberries ;  but  when  he  saw  the  driver 
was  not  his  persecutor  he  again  took  the  road,  mutter- 
ing, as  he  plodded  along, — 

**  Bloke  isn't  half  through  with  me  yet :  he  said  so 
himself.  And  he  is  only  one  of  fifty  or  sixty  men  a 
good  deal  like  him,— to  say  nothing  of  women  !  *  My 
punishment  is  greater  than  I  can  bear.'  '* 

Thanks  to  the  charity  of  deep  twilight,  there  was 
nothing  unsightly  about  the  familiar  road,  and  as 
Phil  neared  the  mass  of  shadow  from  which  two 
lights  gleamed  just  as  they  had  done  nightly  ever 
since  he  had  first  approached  his  home  after  dark, 
his  heart  gave  a  mighty  bound.  Then  his  heart  re- 
proached him  that  he  had  thought  so  little  about  his 
mother  during  his  absence  that  he  had  not  brought 
her  even  the  simplest  present.  He  would  write  back 
to  his  father  to  get  him  something  which  he  knew 
would  please  her ;  and  in  the  mean  time  he  would 
try  to  give  her  more  love  than  ever  before.  If  he 
could  not  have  a  certain  new  occupant  for  his  heart, 
he  would  at  least  be  as  much  as  possible  to  those 
whom  the  Lord  had  given  him. 

Once  within  the  gate,  his  better  self  took  entire 
possession  of  him.  Neither  his  mother  nor  his 
brothers  should  find  him  other  than  he  hud  ever 
12 


134  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

beeu,— affectionate,  cheerful,  and  attentive.  He  stole 
softly  to  a  window  of  the  sitting-room,  to  see  if  the 
family  were  alone.  He  saw  his  two  little  brothers 
absorbed  in  a  game  of  checliers.  His  mother  sat  by 
the  table,  reading  a  letter  which  Phil  recognized  by 
the  hotel's  printed  heading ;  it  was  his  only  letter 
home,  written  so  many  days  ago  that  it  must  have 
been  received  long  before  that  evening.  Evidently 
she  was  re-reading  it, — the  dear  soul ! — as  people 
will  sometimes  do  with  letters  which  contain  too 
little,  as  well  as  those  which  are  full. 

PI  ill  had  to  keep  back  some  tears  of  remorse  as  he 
sprang  upon  the  veranda  and  threw  the  door  open. 
Down  dropped  the  letter,  over  went  the  checker 
table  and  board,  two  chairs,  and  one  small  boy,  and 
in  a  moment  several  country-people  were  as  happy 
as  if  the  sea  had  given  up  its  dead  or  a  long-time 
wanderer  had  returned.  There  are  some  glorious 
compensations  for  being  simple-minded. 


CHAPTER   XV. 

THE  FATTED  CAIiF,— BUT  THE  NEIGHBOBS,  TOO. 

A  THOUGHTFUL  man  once  remarked  that  a  special 
proof  of  divine  wisdom  was  that  the  dear  old  story 
of  the  Prodigal  Son  did  not  reproduce  any  of  the 
conversation  of  the  neighbors  with  or  regarding  the 
naughty  boy,  for  had  tliis  also  been  given  as  it  really 
occurred,  no  subsequent  penitent  would  ever  have 
dared  to  follow  the  amateur  swineherd's  example. 

Philip  Hayn  was  not  a  prodigal ;  he  had  spent 
none  of  his  inheritance  except  as  specially  ordered 
by  his  father,  and  his  only  ground  of  self-reproach 
was  regarding  an  affair  about  which  the  neighbors 
had  no  means  of  obtaining  information  ;  yet  the 
special  efforts  made  by  the  family  to  manifest  their 
joy  at  regaining  him  were  unequal  to  the  task  of 
overcoming  the  disquieting  effects  of  the  neighbors' 
tongues.  The  dreadful  man  who  had  caught  Phil  on 
^  the  train  had  spread  the  news  of  the  boy's  ret.urn,  so 
next  morning  the  road  from  the  village  to  Hayn 
Farm  presented  an  appearance  as  animated  as  if  an 
auction  had  been  announced  in  that  vicinity,  or  as 
if  some  one  had  been  found  dead  in  the  woods.  Men 
old  and  young,  wives  and  maidens,  and  even  little 
children,  devised  excuses  for  visiting  the  farm. 
People  who  came  from  the  other  direction  were  al- 

136 


136  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

ready  supplied  with  tlie  standard  excuse, — they 
wanted  to  borrow  something ;  those  who  had  really 
borrowed  so  often  as  to  doubt  their  welcome  made 
heroic  efforts  to  return  what  they  had  already  bor- 
rowed. 

To  escape  the  succession  of  visitors  at.  the  house, 
Phil  went  to  the  barn-yard  to  see  a  new  family  of 
pigs  of  which  his  little  brothers  had  informed  him, 
but  just  above  the  fence-line  he  saw  two  pairs  of  ej^es 
— ^with  their  attendant  heads,  of  course — that  had 
been  lying  in  wait  for  an  hour  or  two,  after  the 
manner  of  that  class  of  countrymen,  evidently 
among  the  last  offshoots  from  the  brutes,  who  ap- 
parently have  an  inherited  animal  apprehension  of 
harm  should  they  enter  the  den  of  any  species  higher 
than  their  own. 

"  Guess  you  didn't  see  any  pigs  like  them  down  to 
York?"  shouted  the  owner  of  one  pair  of  eyes,  while 
the  other  pair  opened  as  if  they  would  engulf  the 
returned  traveller.  Phil  nodded  his  head  negatively 
and  precipitately  retreated  to  the  barn,  where  he 
found  quite  a  respectable  old  farmer  studying  the 
beach-wagon. 

"Reuben  reckoned  mebbe  he  could  gimme  a  bar- 
gain if  I'd  take  this  off  his  hands,"  he  said,  by  way 
of  explanation,  "so  I  thought  I'd  take  a  look  at  it." 
The  old  man  shook  the  wheels,  tapped  the  bed,  ex- 
amined the  iron-work  closely,  remarking,  as  he  did 
so, — 

**  Reckon,  by  his  wantin'  to  dispose  of  it,  that  them 
city  folks  ain't  a-comin'  here  next  summer  to  be  druv 
down  to  the  beach,— eh  ?'^ 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  137 

"  I  don't  know,"  said  the  unhappy  youth.  He  was 
grateful  to  the  old  fellow  for  not  looking  him  in  the 
eye,  like  a  witness-teaser,  as  he  asked  the  question, 
yet  he  longed  to  kick  him  out  of  the  barn  and  lock 
the  doors,  so  that  there  would  be  one  less  place  for 
the  enemy  to  lie  in  wait.  He  returned  to  the  house, 
and  entered  the  kitchen  just  in  time  to  hear  a  femi- 
nine neighbor  say, — 

"I  s'pose  he'll  wear  his  new  clothes— them  that 
Sol  Mantring  fetched  word  about — to  church  on 
Sunday?" 

Phil  abruptly  got  an  axe  and  went  to  the  wood-lot ; 
his  first  impulse  was  to  take  his  gun,  but  half  in  jest 
and  half  in  earnest  he  told  himself  that  he  would 
not  dare  to  have  arms  in  his  hands  if  the  torment 
was  to  continue.  Yet  even  while  in  the  depths  of 
the  ancestral  forest  he  was  not  safe,  for,  on  the  hollow 
pretence  of  tracking  a  dog  who  had  been  stealing 
sheep,  a  neighbor  followed  Phil  to  the  woods,  found 
him  by  the  tell-tale  blows  of  the  axe,  and  had  him 
at  his  mercy  for  a  full  hour  :  the  visitor  had  mentally 
Bet  apart  a  half-day  for  the  work. 

**  There's  one  way  o'  gettin'  rid  of  this  raft  o' 
people,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn,  who  rapidly  became  as  in- 
dignant as  her  son  at  the  persistency  with  which 
people  brought  Lucia's  name  into  conversation. 
**One  would  s'pose  that  the  world  had  got  back  to 
the  way  it  was  in  old  Father  Adam's  day,  as  far  as 
gals  was  concerned,  an'  there  Wiis  only  one  female 
that  anybody  could  take  a  notion  to.  They  come 
a-pesterin'  the  life  out  o'  me,  just  as  if  I  knowed  any 
more  about  it  than  they  do,— which  I  don't."  Then 
12* 


138  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

the  anxious  mother  looked  slyly,  and  somewhat  re- 
proachfully, at  her  son,  who  flushed  and  said, — 

*'  Tell  us  the  way  of  getting  out  of  it,  mother,  and 
at  least  one  of  your  children  will  arise  and  call  you 
blessed." 

"  Why,  it's  to  have  the  minister  an'  his  wife  to  tea. 
It's  manners,  an'  pretty  much  everybody  knows  it, 
not  to  disturb  anybody  the  day  they're  goin'  to  have 
the  minister." 

"Let's  have  him,"  said  Phil,  eagerly;  "I'll  do 
anything  to  help  you  get  ready,— beat  eggs,  stone 
raisins, — anything  but  go  to  the  store  for  nutmegs 
and  be  caught  by  the  proprietor  and  all  his  customers. 
Say,  mother,  why  can't  you  invite  the  other  min- 
isters too,  on  successive  days?" 

"  You  will  wear  your  new  clothes,  though,  when 
the  minister  comes,  won't  you  ?"  asked  the  old  lady, 
with  some  timidity.  "You  know  I  hain't  seen  'em 
on  you  yet,  an'  I'm  a-dyin'  to,  though  I  hain't  liked 
to  put  you  to  the  trouble  of  dressin'  up  on  purpose, 
knowin'  how  men  hate  to  try  things  on." 

Phil  promised :  he  could  not  resist  his  mother's 
appealing  eyes.  As  the  old  lady  prophesied,  the 
family  were  not  annoyed  the  day  of  the  supper  to 
the  minister.  Phil's  conscience  was  not  easy  in 
anticipation  of  the  expected  guest,  for  he  knew  he 
would  be  questioned  about  the  appearance  of  noted 
New  York  divines  whom  lie  would  be  supposed  to 
have  heard,  whereas  the  only  service  he  had  attended 
was  at  the  Tramlays'  church,  the  pastor  of  which 
had  no  notoriety  at  all.  Perhaps  it  was  to  punish 
his  youthful  parishioner  for  neglect  of  religious  privi- 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  139 

leges  that  the  good  man  questioned  Phil  quite  closely 
about  tlie  Tramlay  family  and  delivered  a  thought- 
ful analysis  of  the  character  of  the  oldest  daughter, 
with  comments  upon  the  probable  effects  of  marriage 
on  various  qualities  of  her  nature.  After  each  state- 
ment he  appealed  to  Phil  for  corroboration,  and  on 
his  way  home  confided  to  his  wife  that  he  believed 
he  had  fully  prepared  the  dear  young  brother  for 
what  he  might  expect  should  he  take  the  important 
step  upon  which  in  all  probability  he  was  resolved. 

Phil  endured  with  becoming  fortitude  the  min- 
ister's remarks  about  Lucia,  and  the  whispered  but 
not  unheard  comments  of  the  minister's  wife  on  the 
"store  clothes,"  which  had  been  worn  in  deference 
to  Mrs.  Hayn's  request.  He  ate  the  three  kinds  of 
solid  cake  without  which  no  supper  to  a  Haynton 
minister  was  supposed  to  be  complete.  He  made 
unusual  effort,  his  father  being  away,  to  cause  the 
visit  one  to  be  pleasantly  remembered  by  the  good 
pastor.  He  was  rewarded  by  discovering  that  his 
trip  to  the  city  which  he  had  heard  called  the 
*' Modern  Sodom"  and  the  "American  Babylon'* 
had  not  destroyed  nor  even  weakened  his  interest  in 
religious  subjects,  and  he  waa  prepared  to  retire  with 
a  more  peaceable  mind  than  he  had  known  in  sev- 
eral days.  But  after  the  table  had  been  cleared  and 
the  uneaten  pieces  of  cake  carefully  put  in  an  earthen 
jar  against  the  next  Sunday's  tea,  and  Phil  was  about 
to  go  to  his  room,  his  mother  said, — 

"  Dearie,  I  s'pose  you'll  wear  your  new  black  things 
to  meetiu'  Sunday  moruin',  won't  you?" 

"Oh,  mother,"  said  Phil,  with  a  frown  quickly 
c 


140  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

succeeded  by  a  laugh,  "nobody  ever  wears  such  a 
coat  to  church.    Everybody  would  laugh  at  me." 

"Dear  me!"  said  the  old  lady,  evidently  disap- 
pointed quite  deeply.  "  I  want  to  know !  Then 
when  be  you  goin'  to  wear  it?" 

"  Never,  I  suppose,"  said  Phil,  his  smile  vanishing. 
"I  was  an  extravagant  fool  to  buy  that  coat.  I'll 
never  forgive  myself  for  it." 

"Never?"  the  old  lady  had  echoed.  "Then  your 
poor  old  mother,  who  loves  you  better  than  anybody 
in  the  world,  is  never  to  see  you  in  it?" 

"She  shan't  wait  another  hour!"  said  Phil,  hur- 
rying out  of  the  room,  and  telling  himself  that  his 
mother  cared  more  for  him  than  all  his  New  Yorli 
friends  combined.  He  dressed  himself  anew,  with 
as  much  care,  though  not  as  much  trepidation,  as 
when  preparing  for  the  Dinon  party ;  he  even  slipped 
out  of  doors  and  by  lighting  two  or  three  matches 
selected  a  bud  from  a  rose-bush  which  was  carefully 
covered  from  tlie  frost  every  night.  He  dressed  his 
hair  carefully,  caressed  his  moustache  into  the  form  a 
barber  had  told  him  was  most  becoming  to  his  stj^le 
of  face,  and  squeezed  his  feet  into  the  low,  tight, 
patent-leather  shoes  which  a  shoemaker  had  assured 
him  were  the  only  proper  thing  for  evening  dress. 
Then  he  came  down-stairs,  whistling  "Hail  to  the 
chief." 

Mrs.  Hayn  hastily  adjusted  the  spectacles  she  had 
been  polishing,  and  as  Phil  entered  the  room  she 
threw  up  both  hands  in  amazement  and  delight.  It 
was  worth  the  price  of  a  coat,  thought  Phil  to  him- 
self, to  enable  that  dear,  honest  old  face  to  express  so 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  141 

much  enjoyment.  As  his  mother  gazed  at  him,  Phil 
went  through  the  various  poses  which  had  been 
demanded  of  him  when  he  was  a  child— even  later — 
and  clothes  were  being  fitted  to  him  by  the  trust- 
worthy Sarah  Tweege ;  he  turned  around,  presented 
one  side  view  and  the  other,  walked  across  the  room 
and  back,  and  saluted  his  mother  with  his  most  pro- 
found bow.  His  mother's  delight  knew  no  bounds. 
Finally  the  good  old  lady  took  both  his  hands,  held 
him  at  arms'  length,  looked  as  if  she  never  could  see 
enough  of  him  ;  then  she  gave  him  a  motherly  hug, 
and  exclaimed, — 

"  I  should  think  she'd  have  fell  dead  in  love  with 
you  the  minute  she  clapped  her  eyes  on  you,  with  all 
those  things  on." 

Phil  retired  hastily,  and  when  he  removed  his 
dress-coat  he  savagely  shook  his  fist  at  it. 


CHAPTER    XVI. 

MORE  NEWS  THAT  WAS  NOT  ENOUGH. 

Little  by  little  the  excitement  over  Phil's  return 
abated,  being  merged  in  curiosity  as  to  why  his 
father  was  remaining  in  the  city.  Local  curiosity 
was  somewhat  discouraged,  too,  by  a  few  sharp  re- 
torts to  persons  who  were  impertinently  inquisitive 
about  the  New  York  developments  of  PhiPs  ac- 
quaintance with  Lucia.  There  was  no  lack  of 
stories,  however,  regarding  the  couple :  in  any  part 
of  the  civilized  world,  no  matter  how  stolid  the  in- 
habitants, there  is  imagination  enough  to  replace  the 
absent  links  in  a  desired  chain  of  facts.  All  that 
Haynton  and  its  vicinity  really  knew  about  the  sup- 
posed Hayn-Tramlay  affair  was  that  the  Tramlays 
had  been  at  Hayn  Farm,  that  they  had  a  daughter 
named  Lucia  whose  age  did  not  differ  much  from 
Phil's,  that  Phil  had  been  in  New  York  for  more 
than  a  fortnight,  that  he  had  gone  direct  from  Sol 
Mantring's  sloop  to  Tramlay's  office,  that  he  had 
been  seen  in  New  York  in  store-clothes,  and  that  he 
admitted  having  seen  Lucia  once  or  twice.  Out  of 
these  few  facts,  which  would  have  been  useless  to 
even  a  detective  were  he  unable  to  treat  them  as 
mere  clues  to  be  followed  carefully,  the  enterprising 
142 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  143 

people  of  Haynton  constructed  a  number  of  stories, 
each  of  which  hung  together  admirably.  That  they 
differed  radically  from  one  another  was  not  the  fault 
of  the  local  romancers ;  they  had  honestly  done  their 
best  with  the  material  at  hand. 

Phil  did  not  regard  the  matter  in  this  light.  When 
day  by  day  his  little  brothers  returned  from  school 
with  tales  they  had  heard  from  class-mates  and 
wondered  greatly  that  they  had  not  first  heard  them 
at  home,  Phil's  temper  broke  loose  so  suddenly  that 
the  boys  almost  feared  to  repeat  all  they  had  heard. 
The  wrathful  young  man  learned  that  he  had  pro- 
posed to  Lucia  and  been  refused,  that  he  had  been 
accepted,  apparently  at  the  same  interview,  that 
Tramlay  was  to  build  a  handsome  house  on  the 
water  front  of  Hayn  Farm  for  his  daughter  as  a 
wedding-present,  that  Phil  took  his  refusal  so 
seriously  to  heart  that  he  was  going  to  study  for  the 
ministry,  and  that  while  in  New  York  he  had  fallen 
into  drinking-habits  so  deeply  that  Tramlay  had 
been  obliged  to  write  Farmer  Hayn  to  hurry  to  the 
city  and  remove  his  unfortunate  son  from  the  scene 
of  temptation. 

Phil  grumbled  and  stormed  ;  he  even  vowed  that 
if  gossip  about  him  did  not  end  he  would  go  to  sea. 
He  thought  seriously  of  publishing  a  list  of  denials 
in  the  weekly  paper,  edited  in  the  county  town, 
which  devoted  a  column  or  two  to  Haynton  news. 
Then  he  wondered  whether  he  might  not  make  a 
confidant  of  the  minister  and  beg  that  a  sermon  be 
preached  on  the  sinfulness  of  gossip ;  but  this  plan 
disappeared   abruptly  when  the  statement  of  hia 


144  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

approaching  marriage  was  traced,  almost  with  cer- 
tainty, to  the  minister  himself. 

But  the  worst  trial  of  all  remained.  On  Sunday- 
he  met  at  church  and  in  the  Young  People's  Bible- 
Class  all  the  girls  who  lived  at  or  near  Haynton. 
Some  of  them  belonged  to  churches  other  than  that 
which  included  the  Hayn  family  among  its  mem- 
bers, but  for  once  they  waived  denominational  pref- 
erences and  went  to  the  First  Cliurch,  and  not  only 
to  see  Phil's  new  clothes  and  cane,  of  which  Sol 
Mantring  had  brought  such  astonishing  reports. 
They  were  as  good  and  sweet-hearted,  those  Haynton 
girls,  as  any  of  their  sex  on  the  face  of  the  earth : 
fashions  a  trifle  old,  and  lack  of  professional  advice 
as  to  how  best  to  enhance  their  natural  charms  by 
borrowing  from  art,  could  not  disguise  the  fact  that 
some  of  them  were  quite  pretty.  It  was  not  their 
fault  that  Phil's  heart  had  gone  elsewhere  for  a  mate, 
but  that  the  young  man  himself  was  greatly  to 
blame  for  such  a  course  was  the  general  opinion, 
among  them,  and  they  would  have  at  least  the 
consolation  of  seeing  how  he  had  been  affected  by 
a  step  so  unusual  among  Haynton  youth.  And 
what  questions  those  girls'  eyes  did  ask !  There 
was  no  need  that  they  should  put  any  of  them 
into  words;  Phil  understood  them  all,  with  the 
result  that  never  before  on  Sunday  had  he  heard 
so  httle  of  sermon,  hymn,  or  prayer  or  betrayed 
so  feeble  a  grasp  of  the  topic  of  the  day  in  the  Bible- 
class. 

So  seriously  was  his  mind  disturbed  that  he  held 
himself  sharply   to   account,   "examined   his   evi- 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  145 

dences"  iu  the  time-honored  and  orthodox  manner, 
and  resolved  that  lack  of  occupation  was  at  the  bot- 
tom of  his  trouble.  He  would  begin  bright  and 
early  Monday  morning  an  extension  of  the  big 
ditch  in  the  marsh  land  :  if  the  mud  and  stones  and 
roots  and  quicksands,  the  tugging  and  straining  and 
perspiring,  sure  to  be  incident  to  the  work,  would 
not  cure  him,  he  grimly  told  himself,  then  his  case 
was  hopeless  indeed. 

Bravely  he  kept  his  word.  At  sunrise  he  was 
already  on  his  way  to  the  marsh,  and  by  the  middle 
of  the  morning  a  single  sensation  encompassed  his 
entire  mind:  it  was  that  ditcliing  was  the  hardest, 
dirtiest,  forlornest  work  that  ever  fell  to  a  farmer's 
lot.  He  dragged  one  heavily-booted  foot  after  the 
other  from  the  ooze,  leaned  on  his  spade,  and  offered 
himself  five  minutes'  rest.  He  looked  wearily  along 
the  prolongation  of  the  line  of  the  ditch  already 
completed,  and  wondered  how  many  hundred  days 
the  entire  improvement  would  require.  Before  he  de- 
cided, his  calculations  were  disturbed  by  the  sound 
of  the  family  dinner-bell.  He  looked  at  the  sun, 
which  was  his  only  timepiece  while  at  work,  and 
wondered  what  could  have  befallen  the  hitherto 
faithful  family  clock.  Again  the  bell  sounded,  and 
when  he  looked  in  the  direction  of  the  house  he 
saw,  on  the  brow  of  the  hill  behind  the  orchard, 
his  mother  waving  her  apron  to  him.  Something 
was  the  matter :  what  could  it  be  ?  a  tramp  ?— a  per- 
sistent lightning-rod  man?  He  hurried  toward  the 
house,  and  soon  saw  that  his  mother  wjvs  waving 
also  something  that  looked  hke  a  handkerchief  and 
Q       k  13 


146  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

then  like  a  piece  of  paper.    A  little  nearer,  and  he 
heard  his  mother  shouting, — 

"  Father's  writ !    We've  got  a  letter  !" 
Phil  ran  nearly  all  the  way  up  the  hill ;  he  had  not 
performed  that  difficult  feat  since  he  and  another  boy 
had  raced  up,  in  coasting-time,  in  wild  strife  as  to 
which  should  capture  a  popular  girl  and  take  her 
down  on  his  sled.    A  letter  from  his  father  was 
indeed  an  unusual  event,  for  the  old  man  had  not 
been  away  from  home  before,  except  when  on  jury- 
duty  in  the  county  town,  in  many  years,  yet  from 
the  old  lady's  manner  it  seemed  the  letter  must 
contain   something   unusual.     As    he   reached    the 
hilltop  his  naother  placed  the  sheet  in  his  hand, 
saying,— 
"  I  thought  mebbe  you'd  better  see  it  at  once." 
Phil  took  it,  and  read  aloud  as  follows : 

*'  Dear  Old  Girl  : 

"Your  husband  is  about  as  usual,  though  the 
well-water  in  this  town  ain't  fit  for  decent  cattle 
to  drink.  I've  seen  some  of  the  sights,  and  wished 
more  than  once  that  I  had  you  along :  if  things  turn 
out  as  they  look,  though,  I'll  bring  you  down  in  style 
yet.  I've  run  against  the  folks  that  looked  at  our 
south  ridge  with  a  view  to  making  a  cottage  village, 
and,  as  luck  would  have  it,  they  knew  Mr.  Tramlay, 
who's  rolled  up  his  sleeves  and  done  his  best  to  help 
clinch  things  and  make  a  good  thing  out  of  it  for 
me.  I  need  Phil ;  Mr.  Tramlay  wants  him  too  ;  and 
I  wish  you'd  tell  him  to  pack  his  bag  and  get  back 
here  as  soon  as  he  can.    The  boys  can  take  care  of 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  147 

the  animals,  and  there's  nothing  else  on  the  farm 
but  can  wait  till  I  get  back. 

**The  Lord  be  with  you  all,  so  no  more  at  present, 
from 

**  Your  loving  husband, 
"Keuben." 
**P.S.— That  gal  ain't  no  more  engaged  than  I 
am." 

Phil  took  off  his  hat,  rubbed  his  eyes,  looked  away 
in  the  direction  of  the  ditch-extension,  and  made  a 
face  at  the  faithful  old  spade. 

*'  I  s'pose  you'd  better  be  thinkin'  about  gettin'  off 
at  once,"  said  his  mother. 

"Father's  will  is  law,"  said  Phil,  in  the  calmest 
tone  he  could  command.  "  Do  you  think  the  boys 
and  Carlo  can  help  you  take  care  of  the  place  for 
a  few  days?" 

"To  be  sure,"  said  his  mother,  **an'  a  powerful 
sight  o'  days  besides,  if  it's  goin'  to  save  your  father 
from  drudgin'  away  the  rest  of  his  days.  An'  I  ain't 
above  sayin'  that  I'd  stand  a  good  deal  of  loneliness 
if  I  thought  'twould  end  in  my  stoppin'  trottin' 
around  in  a  pint-pot  day  in  an'  day  out.  An'  you," 
said  the  old  lady,  looking  at  her  son,  "  I  want  to  see 
the  time  come  when  I  can  take  them  old  boots  out 
to  a  brush-heap  and  burn  'em  out  o'  sight  an'  knowl- 
edge. But  what  does  your  father  mean  about  that 
gal  not  bein'  engaged  ?    Is  it  that  Tramlay  gal  ?" 

"I  suppose  so,"  said  Phil,  carelessly,  though  his 
manner  wiis  the  result  of  prodigious  effort.  "Wiien 
he  found  me  he  asked  me  about  her,  along  with  the 


148  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

other  folks,  and  I  told  him,  just  as  I'd  heard,  that 
she  was  engaged  to  be  married.  Father  must  have 
been  asking  some  pointed  questions  about  her.  It 
does  beat  everything,  the  interest  that  old  men 
sometimes  take  in  young  women  who  aren't  kith 
nor  kin  to  them,  doesn't  it?  I  guess  it's  about  as 
well  that  I'm  going  back,  if  only  to  keep  the  old 
gentleman's  country  curiosity  within  proper  bounds. 
Don't  you  think  so?" 

"  She  ain't  engaged,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn,  ignoring  her 
son's  explanation  and  his  attempt  at  joking.  **  She 
ain't  engaged,"  the  old  lady  repeated  ;  "  so  you " 

The  sentence  was  not  completed,  but  Phil's  face 
flushed  as  he  looked  down  at  his  muddy  boots.  For 
the  first  time  since  his  return  he  had  heard  an  allu- 
sion to  Lucia  which  did  not  make  him  uncomfort- 
able. 

Within  two  hours  Haynton  was  shaken  from 
centre — the  railway-station — to  circumference  by  the 
announcement  that  Phil  Hayn,  in  his  store-clothes, 
had  bought  a  ticket  for  New  York  and  was  already 
well  on  his  journey.  Meanwhile,  at  Hayn  Farm  an 
old  woman  as  deeply  interested  as  any  one  in  the 
business  and  other  possibilities  that  had  been  fore- 
shadowed was  doing  all  in  her  power  to  further  them : 
she  was  spending  the  afternoon  on  her  knees  at  her 
bedside. 


CHAPTER    XVII. 

FATHER  AND  SON. 

Youth  has  some  advantages  peculiarly  its  own  in 
the  general  battle  for  fame  and  fortune  and  in  capa- 
city for  enjoyment,  but  for  discovering  all  that  may  be 
pleasing  in  whatever  is  nearest  at  hand  it  is  left  far 
behind  by  age.  The  school-girl  does  not  care  for 
dainty  flavors  unless  they  have  candy  for  a  basis  ;  her 
mother,  with  a  palate  wliich  has  been  in  training 
for  half  a  century,  will  get  truer  enjoyment  out  of  a 
neighbor's  loaf  of  home-made  cake  than  the  girl  can 
find  in  a  shop-full  of  bonbons.  A  boy  will  ramble 
through  an  orchard  in  search  of  the  tree  which  is 
fullest  and  has  the  largest  fruit ;  his  father,  in  late 
autumn,  will  find  higher  flavor,  and  more  of  it,  in 
the  late  windfalls  which  his  stick  discovers  among 
the  dead  leaves. 

Farmer  Hayn  was  old  and  weary ;  he  was  alone  in 
his  rambles  about  the  metropolis,  and  he  kept  close 
guard  on  his  pocket-book;  but  no  country  youth 
who  ever  hurried  to  the  city  to  squander  his  patri- 
mony could  have  had  so  good  a  time.  He  saw  every- 
thing that  the  local  guide-books  called  attention  to, 
and  so  much  else  which  was  interesting  that  Tramlay, 
whom  he  had  occasion  to  see  for  a  few  minutes  each 
day,  said  one  morning  at  the  breakfast-table, — 
13*  149 


150  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"  I  wish,  my  dear,  that  I  could  steal  a  week  or  two 
from  business,  so  that  you  and  I  could  poke  about 
New  York,  personally  conducted  by  that  old  farmer." 

"  Edgar  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tramlay,  "  I  sometimes 
fear  that  old  age  is  taking  sudden  possession  of  you, 
you  get  such  queer  notions.  The  idea  of  New  York 
people  seeing  their  own  city  with  a  countryman  for 
a  guide !" 

**  There's  nothing  queer  about  facts,  my  dear," 
replied  Tramlay,  "except  that  they  may  be  right 
under  our  eyes  for  years  without  being  seen.  A  few 
years  ago  you  and  I  spent  nearly  a  thousand  dollars 
in  visiting  some  European  battle-fields.  To-day  that 
old  fellow  has  carefully  done  tlie  Revolutionary 
battle-fields  of  New  York  and  Brooklyn,  at  a  total 
expense  of  a  quarter  of  a  dollar :  even  then  he  had  a 
penny  left  to  give  to  a  beggar." 

"  I  never  heard  of  a  battle-field  in  New  York  or 
Brooklyn,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

"Nor  I,"  her  husband  replied  ;  "at  least  not  in  so 
long  a  time  that  I'd  forgotten  the  localities.  But 
that  old  fellow  knows  all  about  them  :  when  I  drew 
him  out  a  little  he  made  me  plans  of  each,  with 
pencil  on  the  back  of  an  envelope,  and  explained 
how  we  lost  Long  Island  and  New  York,  as  well  as 
nearly  two  thousand  men,  when  men  were  far 
scarcer  than  they  are  now.  Here"— the  merchant 
drew  a  mass  of  letters  from  his  pocket  and  extracted 
from  them  a  scrap  of  paper, — "here's  the  way  it 
happened  ;  let  me  explain " 

"  I'm  not  interested  in  those  stupid  old  times," 
said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  with  a  deprecatory  wave  of  her 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  151 

hand.  "  I've  heard  that  in  those  days  there  wasn't 
a  house  above  Wall  Street,  no  Park  to  drive  in,  and 
parties  began  before  sunset." 

"Ah!  to  be  sure,"  said  Tramlay,  with  a  sigh. 
**  But  old  Hayn  has  seen  modern  New  York  too :  I 
was  intensely  interested  in  his  description  of  the 
work  being  done  in  some  of  the  industrial  schools, 
where  hundreds  of  little  street  Arabs  are  coaxed  in 
by  a  promise  of  full  stomachs,  and  taught  to  be  good 
for  something ;  the  boys  learn  how  to  use  tools,  and 
the  girls  are  taught  every  branch  of  housekeeping." 

*'  I  really  don't  see,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  aa  she 
nibbled  a  roll,  "what  there  is  to  interest  us  in  the 
doings  of  such  people." 

"They're  the  people,"  said  her  husband,  raising 
his  voice  a  little,  "who  generally  supply  us  with 
paupers  and  criminals,  they  being  untaught  at  home, 
and  consequently  having  to  beg  or  steal  for  a  living. 
It  is  because  of  such  people  that  we  have  iron  bars 
on  our  dining-room  windows  and  area-door,  and 
hire  a  detective  whenever  we  give  a  party,  and  put  a 
chain  on  our  door-mat  and  pay  taxes  to  build  jails 
and  asylums  and '^ 

"  Oh,  Edgar,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  plaintively,  "  our 
minister  told  us  all  this  in  a  sermon  nearly  a  year 
ago.  I'm  sure  I  listened  patiently  to  it  then  ;  I  don't 
think  it's  very  kind  of  you  to  go  all  over  it  again." 

"No,  I  suppose  not,"  sighed  the  merchant,  hastily 
kissing  his  family  good-by  and  starting  for  his  office. 
In  a  moment  he  returned,  and  said, — 

"Just  a  word  with  you,  my  dear.  It's  nothing 
about  farmers,  or  battles,  or  industrial Say,"  he 


152  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

whispered,  as  his  wife  joined  him  in  the  hall,  "  don't 
you  think  I'd  better  have  the  doctor  drop  in  to  see 
Lucia?  I'm  afraid  she's  goiug  to  be  sick.  She's 
looked  poorly  for  days,  and  doesn't  seem  to  have  any 
spirit." 

*'  I'm  sure  she's  lively  enough  when  she's  out  of 
temper,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  **  which  she  is  nearly 
all  the  while.  She's  snapped  at  the  children  until 
they  hate  the  sight  of  her,  and  I  can't  speak  to  her 
without  being  greeted  by  a  flood  of  tears.  Margie 
seems  the  only  one  who  can  do  anything  with  her." 

"  Umph  !"  muttered  the  merchant,  taking  much 
time  to  arrange  his  hat  before  the  mirror  of  the  hat- 
rack. 

Meanwhile,  the  old  farmer  and  his  son  were  having 
a  long  chat  in  a  hotel  bedroom. 

*'  So  you  see  how  the  land  lies,"  said  the  old  man. 
"Though  I  never  held  that  part  of  the  farm  at  over 
two  hundred  an  acre,  the  soil  bein'  thinner  than  the 
lower-lyin'  land,  an'  requirin'  a  good  deal  more 
manure  to  make  decent  crops,  Tramlay  says  it'll 
fetch  a  clean  two  thousand  an  acre  when  it's  cut  up, 
if  the  scheme  takes  hold  as  it's  likely  to.  That's 
why  he  advised  me  to  retain  an  interest,  instead  of 
sellin'  out-an'-out.  I'm  to  get  five  thousand  in  cash 
for  the  forty  acres,  an'  have  a  quarter  interest  in  all 
sales :  that  means  twenty  thousand  in  the  end,  if 
things  turn  out  as  Tramlay  thinks." 

<<  My  !"  ejaculated  Phil,  his  eyes  opening  very  wide, 
and  going  into  a  brown  study.  The  old  man  contem- 
plated him  for  some  time  with  a  smile  of  supreme 
satisfaction.    Finally  he  said,— 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  153 

*'  Makes  you  feel  a  little  bit  as  if  you  was  a  rich 
man's  son,  don't  it,  old  boy?" 

"Indeed  it  does,"  Phil  replied.  "But  I  don't  see 
how  I  can  help  you  about  it." 

"  Don't,  eh  ?  Well,  I'll  tell  you,"  said  the  old  man, 
eying  his  son  closely.  "That  forty  acres  is  about 
quarter  of  the  farm-land  in  value,  I  calculate,  count- 
ing out  the  house  an'  other  buildin's.  If  I  was  makin* 
my  will,  an'  dividin'  things  up  among  tlie  family, 
I'd  leave  just  about  that  much  land  to  you,  with 
an  interest  in  the  house,  stock,  etcetery,  when  the 
Lord  sees  fit  to  call  your  mother.  So" — liere  the  old 
man  intensified  his  gaze — "  I've  arranged  to  give  my 
quarter  interest  in  the  enterprise  to  you,  as  your  in- 
heritance :  that'll  make  you  a  director  in  the  comp'ny, 
with  as  much  say  as  anybody  else.  It'll  keep  you  in 
York  a  good  deal,  though." 

"  Father !"  exclaimed  Phil. 

"An',"  continued  the  old  man,  dropping  his  eyes 
as  soon  as  his  son  looked  at  him,  and  putting  on  the 
countenance  in  which  he  usually  discussed  the  ordi- 
nary affairs  of  the  farm,  "  as  it  may  need  some  money 
for  you  to  keep  up  proper  style  with  the  people  whom 
you'll  have  to  deal  with,  I  propose  to  put  the  five 
thousand  in  bank  here  to  our  joint  account,  so  you 
can  draw  whenever  you  need  cash." 

The  old  man  began  to  pare  fine  shavings  from  the 
tooth-pick  which  he  had  cherished  ever  since  he  left 
the  dining-room,  but  Phil  compelled  a  suspension  of 
industry  for  a  moment  by  going  over  to  his  father's 
chair  and  pressing  the  gray  head  to  his  breast. 

"The  other  principal  stockholders,"  said  the  old 


154  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

man,  as  soon  as  he  was  able  to  resume  his  whittling, 
*'are  Tramlay  an'  a  man  named  Marge." 

"  Marge  !"  Phil  echoed. 

"  You  seem  to  know  him,"  said  the  farmer,  looking 
up  from  under  his  eyebrows. 

"I  should  think  so,"  said  Phil,  frowning  and 
twitching  his  lips  a  great  deal.    *'  He's  the  man " 

"Well?"  asked  the  old  man,  for  Phil  had  not 
finished  his  sentence.  There  was  no  reply,  so  he 
continued, — 

" The  man  you  thought  had  caught  the  gal?" 

Phil  nodded  aflELrmatively. 

*'  Now  you  see  what  comes  of  goin'  off  at  half-cock," 
said  the  farmer.  **  Lost  your  expenses  two  ways,  to 
say  nothin'  of  peace  o'  mind." 

"I  heard  one  man  telling  another  it,"  said  Phil, 
quite  humbly  :  "  so  what  was  I  to  think  ?" 

"  If  you  believe  ev'rythin'  you  hear  about  men  an' 
women,  my  boy,  you'll  be  off  your  course  all  your 
life  long.    Take  a  good  grip  on  that." 

Again  Phil  went  into  a  brown  study,  from  which 
he  emerged  suddenly  to  say, — 

"It's  just  what  you  did,  when  you  supposed  you 
learned  she  wasn't  engaged,  isn't  it?  You  believed 
it,  and  wrote  it  at  once  to  me." 

"  Oh,  no  !"  said  the  old  man,  with  an  air  of  supe- 
riority as  he  put  a  very  sharp  point  on  what  remained 
of  the  tooth-pick.  "  Not  much.  I've  learned  always 
to  go  to  head-quarters  for  information." 

"Why,  father,"  Phil  exclaimed,  excitedly,  "you 
don't  mean  to  say,  after  what  you  promised  me,  that 
you  went— and— and " 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  155 

"  Poked  my  nose  into  other  people's  business  ?  Not 
I.  Mr.  Tramlay  took  me  home  to  dinner,— say,  what 
an  outlandish  way  these  city  folks  have  got  of  not 
eatin'  dinner  till  nigh  onto  bed-time  !— an'  after  the 
meal,  'long  about  the  edge  o'  the  evenin',  when 
Tramlay  had  gone  for  some  papers  to  show  me,  an' 
the  old  lady  was  out  of  the  room  for  somethin',  I 
took  'casion  to  congratulate  the  gal  on  her  engage- 
ment ;  that's  the  proper  thing  in  such  cases  made  an' 
purvided,  you  know.  She  looked  kind  o'  flabber- 
gasted, an'  at  last  she  said  'twas  the  fust  she'd  heerd 
of  it.  I  tried  to  git  out  of  it  by  sayin'  if  it  wa'n't  true 
it  ort  to  be,  if  young  men  in  York  had  eyes  in  their 
heads.  But  it  didn't  seem  to  work.  She  asked  how 
I  heerd  of  it,  an'  I  had  to  say  that  somebody  in  the 
city  had  told  my  son  about  it." 

Phil  frowned. 

"Then,"  continued  the  old  man,  "she  bust  out 
cryin'." 

"  Oh,  dear !"  sighed  Phil. 

"Well,"  said  the  old  man,  "T  see  somethin'  had  to 
be  done,  so  I  put  my  arms  around  her " 

"Why,  father!"  said  Phil,  in  alarm. 

"  I  put  my  arras  around  her,  an'  said  that  when  a 
gal  was  cryin'  she  ort  to  have  her  parents  to  comfort 
her,  an',  as  neither  of  'em  was  present,  I  hoped  she'd 
make  b'lieve  for  a  minute  or  two  that  I  was  her  grand- 
father. So  she  took  my  advice ;  an'  it  seemed  to  do 
her  a  sight  o'  good." 

"What  advice  did  you  give  her?"  asked  Phil. 

"  None,— in  words,"  said  the  old  man.  "  Wait  till 
you're  my  age ;  then  you'll  understand." 


156  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"I  don't  see,"  said  Phil,  after  a  moment  or  two 
of  silence,  "that  things  are  much  better  than  they 
were.  Perhaps  she's  not  engaged ;  but  that  fellow 
Marge  is  hanging  about  her  all  the  time.  From 
what  I've  heard  people  remark,  he's  been  paying 
attention  to  her  for  a  year  or  two.  When  the  family 
were  at  our  house  last  summer  he  was  the  only  man 
she  talked  about.  I'm  pretty  sure,  too,  from  what 
I've  seen,  that  her  mother  favors  him.  So,  putting 
everything  together,  and  thinking  about  it  a  good 
deal,  as  I've  had  to  do  in  spite  of  myself  since  I've 
been  up  home,  I've  made  up  my  mind  that  it's  a 
foregone  conclusion." 

"So  you're  goin'  to  flop  like  a  stuck  pig,  an'  let  it 
go  on,  are  you?  Just  because  you've  thought  some- 
thin'  you're  goin-  to  do  nothin'.  If  I'd  thought  that 
of  you  I  don't  b'lieve  I'd  have  brought  you  down 
here  to  be  a  business-man  in  the  city.  A  fellow  that 
hain't  got  the  grit  to  fight  for  a  gal  that  he  wants 
is  likely  to  make  a  mighty  poor  fist  of  it  in  fightin' 
for  a  fortune.  No,  sir  ;  you're  not  goin'  to  knuckle 
under  while  you've  got  a  father  to  ^g^  you  on.  I 
don't  say  she's  in  ev'ry  way  the  gal  I'd  have  picked 
out  for  you,  but  any  gal  that'll  live  up  to  the  best 
that's  in  her  is  good  enough  for  any  man  alive.  If 
you  care  as  much  for  her  as  you  thought  you  did 
when  I  met  you  in  the  street  that  day,  that  gal  is 
the  one  for  you  to  tie  to,  unless  she  breaks  the  rope. 
A  man  sometimes  gets  a  bad  lickin'  in  a  love-fight, 
an'  a  powerful  big  scar  besides,  but  both  together 
don't  do  him  as  much  harm  as  backin'  out  an' 
playin'  coward." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  157 

"I'm  not  a  coward,  father,"  protested  Phil,  and 
his  eyes  flashed  as  if  lie  meant  it. 

'*You  don't  mean  to  be,  my  boy,"  said  the  old 
man,  with  a  pat  on  his  son's  shoulder,  **  but  ev'ry- 
tliin'  in  this  affair  is  new  to  you,  an'  you're  in  the 
dark  about  some  things  that  mebbe  look  bigger  than 
they  are.  That  sort  of  thiug'll  make  cowards  out 
of  the  best  of  men,  if  they  give  in  to  it :  that's  the 
reason  I'm  crackin'  the  whip  at  you." 

"I  wonder  what  Mr.  Tramlay  wants  of  me,"  said 
Phil,  a  moment  later. 

**  Reckon  you'd  better  go  down  and  find  out,"  the 
old  man  replied. 


14 


CHAPTER   XVIII. 

THE  NEW  CLERK. 

"  Your  mother's  out,  as  usual,  I  suppose,"  said  Mr. 
Tramlay  to  his  oldest  daughter,  as  he  came  home 
in  the  afternoon  and  roamed  despondently  about  the 
house,  after  the  manner  of  family  men  in  general 
when  their  wives  are  away. 

*'  She  isn't  back  from  her  ride  yet,"  said  Lucia. 
"You  know  the  usual  drive  always  keeps  her  out 
until  about  six." 

''  I  ought  to  know  it  by  this  time,  I  suppose,"  said 
the  merchant,  "  and  I  don't  begrudge  her  a  moment 
of  it,  but  somehow  the  house  is  never  quite  the  same 
when  she  is  out  of  it." 

liucia  looked  at  her  father  with  a  little  wonder  in 
her  face.  Then  she  laughed,  not  very  cheerfully,  and 
said, — 

"Father,  do  you  know  that  you're  dreadfully  old- 
fashioned?" 

"  I  suppose  so.    Maybe  it's  force  of  habit." 

Lucia  still  wondered.  She  loved  her  mother,  in  the 
instinctive,  not  over-intelligent  way  of  most  young 
people,  but  really  she  could  not  see  what  there  was 
about  the  estimable  woman  that  should  make  her 
father  long  to  see  her  every  day  of  the  year  and 
search  the  house  for  her  whenever  he  returned.  She 
158 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  159 

had  never  heard  her  father  make  romantic  speeches, 
such  as  nice  married  people  sometimes  do  in  novels  ; 
and  as  for  her  mother,  what  did  she  ever  talk  of  to 
her  liege  lord  but  family  bills,  the  servants,  the 
children's  faults,  and  her  own  ailments?  Could  it 
be,  she  asked  herself,  that  this  matter-of-fact  couple 
said  anything  when  alone  that  was  unlike  what  the 
whole  family  heard  from  them  daily  at  the  table  and 
in  the  sitting-room  ? 

"Why  are  you  looking  at  me  so  queerly?"  sud- 
denly asked  the  father.  Lucia  recovered  herself,  and 
said,— 

"I  was  only  wondering  whether  you  never  got 
tired  of  looking  for  mother  as  soon  as  you  came 
home." 

"  Certainly  not,"  said  the  merchant. 

**  Most  husbands  do,  sooner  or  later,"  said  Lucia. 

"Perhaps  I  will,  some  day,"  the  father  replied; 
*'  and  I  can  tell  you  when  it  will  be." 

"Tell,"  said  Lucia. 

"I  think  'twill  be  about  the  day  after  eternity 
ends,"  was  the  reply.  "Not  a  day  sooner.  But 
what  do  you  know  about  what  some  husbands  do,  you 
little  simpleton?  And  what  put  the  subject  into 
your  little  head?" 

"Oh,  I  don't  know,"  said  Lucia,  dropping  upon 
the  piano-stool  and  making  some  chords  and  discords. 
"  It  came  into  my  mind  ;  that's  all." 

"Well,  I  hope  that  some  day  you'll  find  out  to 
your  own  satisfaction.  By  the  way,  I  wish  you'd 
get  out  of  that  morning  gown.  My  new  clerk  is 
coming  to  dinner." 


160  COUNTRY  LUCK, 

"Oh,  dear !  then  I'll  have  dinner  sent  up  to  my 
room,  I  think.  I  don't  feel  a  bit  well,  and  it's  awful 
to  think  of  sitting  bolt  upright  in  a  tight  dress  for 
an  hour  or  two."  And  Lucia  whirled  from  side  to 
side  on  the  piano-stool,  and  looked  forlorn  and  cross. 

**  I  suppose  it  would  be  impossible  to  dine  in  a  dress 
that  is  not  tight?"  said  the  father. 

"Papa,  please  don't  tease  me :  I  don't  feel  a  bit 
well ;  really  I  don't." 

"What  is  the  matter,  child?"  asked  the  father, 
tenderly.    "  Too  much  candy  ?— too  few  parties  ?" 

"Oh,  nothing,  that  I  know  of,"  said  the  girl, 
wearily.  "I'll  feel  better  when  real  cold  weather 
comes,  I  suppose."  She  played  with  the  piano- 
keys  a  moment  or  two,  and  continued,— 

"So  you  have  a  new  clerk?  I  hope  he's  nice? — 
not  a  mere  figuring-machine  ?" 

"Quite  a  fine  fellow,"  said  the  merchant.  "At 
least,  he  seems  to  be." 

"  Is  he — have  you  given  him  the  place  you  intended 
to  offer  Philip  Hayn?" 

"Yes." 

"  The  iron  business  is  real  good  for  a  young  man 
to  get  into,  isn't  it?" 

"Indeed  it  is,  since  iron  has  looked  up." 

"And  that  stupid  fellow  might  have  had  the 
chance  if  he  hadn't  gone  off  home  again  without 
even  calling  to  say  good-by?" 

"Just  so." 

"  Oh,  I  don't  want  to  see  him,"  said  Lucia,  pet- 
tishly.    "  I'm  tired  of  young  men." 

"What  a  mercy  it  is  that  they  don't  know  it!" 


COUNTRF  LUCK.  161 

said  her  father.  "They'd  all  go  off  and  commit 
suicide,  aud  then  merchauts  couldn't  have  any  clerks 
at  all." 

''Now,  papa!"  said  Lucia,  with  a  crash  on  the 
lower  octaves  of  keys,  followed  by  a  querulous  run, 
with  her  thumb,  over  the  shorter  strings.  "  Is  the  new 
clerk  anybody  in  particular?    What  is  his  name?" 

"  Philip  Hayn." 

Lucia  sprang  from  the  piano-stool  and  almost 
strangled  her  father  with  her  slender  arms. 

"  Gracious,  Lu  !"  exclaimed  the  merchant.  "  Your 
mother's  family  must  have  descended  from  a  grizzly 
bear.    But  why  this  excitement?" 

"Because  you're  a  dear,  thoughtful  old  man,  who's 
always  trying  to  do  good,"  said  Lucia.  "  If  'tweren't 
for  you  that  poor  young  man  might  never  have  a 
chance  in  the  world.  I  think  it's  real  missionary 
work  to  help  deserving  people  who  aren't  able  to 
help  themselves  ;  I  know  it  is ;  for  our  minister  has 
said  so  from  the  pulpit  again  and  again." 

"I'm  real  glad  to  learn  that  my  daughter  re- 
members some  of  the  things  she  hears  in  church," 
said  the  merchant.  "80  you  think  young  Hayn 
deserves  a  chance  in  the  world,  eh?" 

"  I  only  know  what  you  yourself  have  said  about 
him,"  said  Lucia,  demurely. 

"  Good  girl !  always  take  your  father's  advice  about 
young  men,  and  you'll  not  be  mistaken  in  human 
nature.  Which  cut  of  the  roast  chicken  shall  I  send 
up  to  your  room?" 

"Oh,  I'll  try  to  come  down,  as  it's  only  Phil: 
maybe  I  can  coax  Margie  to  help  me  dress." 
I  14* 


162  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Lucia  slipped  slowly  from  the  room,  but  went  up 
the  stairs  like  a  whirlwind.  The  merchant  sat  down 
at  the  piano  and  made  as  dreadful  a  succession  of 
noises  as  the  much  afflicted  instrument  had  ever 
endured.    He  had  to  do  something. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  Lucia  floated  down- 
stairs in  a  robe  of  pale  blue,  her  face  as  fresh  and 
bright  as  dawn. 

* '  Sunrise  at  sunset !' '  exclaimed  her  father.  * '  Well, 
girls  are  possessed  to  upset  the  natural  order  of  things, 
I  suppose.  But,  my  dear  daughter,  you've  put  the 
rouge  on  too  thick ;  don't  you  think  so?" 

"  Father !"  exclaimed  the  girl,  and  the  flush  of  her 
cheeks  spread  to  her  brow. 

''Edgar,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  who  came  in  a  mo- 
ment or  two  after,  "see  how  foolish  you  were  to 
think  Lucia  ill.    I  never  saw  her  looking  better." 

"Yes,"  said  the  merchant,  dryly ;  '*  I  told  her  the 
doctor  was  coming.  That's  often  enough  to  cure  the 
ailments  of  some  children,  you  know."  Then  the 
merchant  devoted  ten  minutes  of  business  tact  to 
the  task  of  explaining  to  his  wife  the  reasons  of 
Philip's  return  to  New  York  ;  he  also  enlarged  upon 
the  Haynton  Bay  Improvement  Company,  and  the 
probability  that  if  the  Tramlays  were  to  build  the 
first  and  handsomest  house  on  the  new  property  Mrs. 
Tramlay  would  naturally  be  the  fashionable  leader 
of  whatever  section  or  sub-section  of  society  might 
select  the  place  as  a  summer  home.  Mrs.  Tramlay 
was  inclined  to  be  conservative  on  the  subject,  but 
when  she  learned  that  Marge  was  a  stockholder  and 
director  in  the  company  she  became  quite  cheerful. 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  163 

Phil  was  not  8o  happy  as  he  should  have  been 
while  on  his  way  to  the  Tramlays'.  He  wondered 
how  he  should  be  able  to  greet  Lucia  without  betray- 
ing the  mixed  emotions  which  he  was  sure  the  first 
sight  of  her  face  would  cause  him.  He  had  a  firm 
conviction  that  he  would  feel  awkward  and  act  ac- 
cordingly, and  his  remembrance  of  various  men 
whom  he  had  seen  behaving  awkwardly  in  the  pres- 
ence of  young  ladies  made  him  certain  that  Lucia 
and  Margie  would  laugh  at  him  when  his  back  was 
turned.  He  did  not  realize  that  in  meeting,  as  well 
as  in  fighting,  the  burden  of  action  does  not  all  rest 
upon  one  person.  Neither  did  he  take  into  consider- 
ation the  tact  which  some  maidens  acquire  in  a  year 
or  two  spent  in  society.  As  he  Wiis  ushered  into  the 
parlor,  with  a  face  which  he  was  8Ui*e  was  sober  and 
set,  Lucia  approached  him  with  a  pleasant  smile, 
and  exclaimed,  as  heartily  and  unaffectedly  as  if  she 
were  a  Haynton  girl, — 

*'How  do  you  do,  Phil?  I'm  ever  so  glad  to  see 
you  back  again." 

Away  went  all  sense  of  soberness,  hesitation,  and 
doubt;  the  young  man's  soul  leaped  to  his  face, 
and  he  held  so  long  the  little  hand  offered  him 
that  Lucia,  perhaps  remembering  some  impulsive 
demonstrations  toward  that  graceful  member,  with- 
drew it  before  any  attempt  to  release  it  had  begun. 
Then  the  girl  began  a  rapid  series  of  questions 
about  Hayn  Farm  and  its  occupants,  and  Phil 
made  cheery  replies,  and  Tramlay,  after  gazing  at 
the  couple  from  the  back  parlor,  retired  to  his 
library  to  indulge  undisturbed  in  as  much  vigorous 


164  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

and  affirmative  head-shaking  as  the  situation  seemed 
to  j  ustify. 

"  How  do  you  think  you  will  like  the  iron  business, 
Mr.  Hayn  ?"  asked  Mrs.  Tramlay  at  dinner. 

*'  Greatly,  so  far  as  I  know  it,''  Phil  replied.  "  Up 
to  date  my  duties  have  been  to  go  to  lunch,  read  the 
morning  papers,  and  chat  with  a  railroad  company's 
vice-president  about  off-shore  fishing." 

**  We  always  try  to  break  in  our  young  men  pleas- 
antly," said  Tramlay,  "  so  they'll  be  willing  to  prom- 
ise long  service  for  small  money :  then  we  begin  to 
put  on  heavier  chains,  one  by  one." 

'*  Papa's  clerks  have  a  hard  time,  if  they  happen  to 
be  nice,"  said  Lucia.  "  They  have  to  get  postage- 
stamps  for  Margie  and  me  when  we  happen  in  at  the 
office,  and  find  small  change  for  us  when  we  lose  our 
pocket-books,  and  take  us  out  to  lunch  when  we 
come  down  town  and  don't  find  papa  in,  and  some- 
times they  have  to  come  to  trains  for  us  when  we've 
been  a  few  miles  out  of  town  on  a  visit  and  the  team 
doesn't  get  in  before  dark." 

"Then  I  shall  earnestly  strive  to  be  nice,"  said 
Phil. 

''There's  some  down-town  place,"  said  Margie, 
"where  papa  gets  lovely  candy  a  great  deal  cheaper 
than  up  Broadway ;  but  he  forgets  it  half  the  time, 
so  we  sometimes  have  one  of  the  clerks  order  it  sent 
to  papa's  desk, — that  is,  clerks  who  know  how  to 
select  candy,"  said  Margie. 

"My  education  in  that  respect,"  said  Phil,  "has 
not  been  as  thorough  as  if  I  could  have  foreseen  such 
necessity  for  it ;  but  I  will  resume  my  studies  at  once." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  165 

"Are  you  a  good  judge  of  tea?"  asked  Lueia. 
**  Mamma  has  not  been  quite  herself  since  one  of 
papa's  clerks  went  to  Pennsylvania  to  take  charge 
of  a  rolling-mill.  The  good 'man  used  to  spend  hours 
in  the  tea-importers'  warehouses,  down  near  the 
oflace,  searching  for  the  kind  of  tea  that  mamma 
dotes  on." 

"  You  children  are  not  to  worry  Phil  with  any  of 
your  trifling  affairs,"  said  the  head  of  the  house. 
**I  want  you  all  to  understand  that,  besides  having 
a  desk  in  my  office,  he  is  a  large  operator  in  real 
estate,— a  capitalist,— a  sort  of  monopolist,  in  fact,  for 
he  is  secretary  and  a  director  of  the  Haynton  Bay 
Improvement  Company,  which  monopolizes  one  of 
the  finest  bits  of  shore  front  on  the  Atlantic  Coast." 

•'  Haynton  Bay  !"  said  Lucia,  in  wonder.  *•  Why, 
that  is  where  Hayn  Farm  is." 

"Wise  child!"  said  her  father;  "and  that  fine 
bluff  portion  of  the  farm  that  overlooks  the  bay  is 
the  company's  property.  You'll  never  again  cut 
your  shoes  to  pieces  on  the  oat  stubble  on  that  bluff, 
for  when  next  you  see  the  place  it  will  be  covered  by 
fine  villas,  the  handsomest  of  which  you  probably 
will  some  day  see  mentioned  in  the  newspapers  as 
the  country-seat  of  the  well-known  merchant  prince, 
Edgar  Tramlay,  Esq.,  father  of  the  charming " 

"Edgar  !  Edgar  !"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

"And,  as  I  was  saying,"  continued  Tramlay,  "no 
purchaser's  title  will  be  good  without  the  signature 
and  official  seal  of  Mr.  Pliilip  Hayn.  Candy  and 
postage-stamps,  indeed  !  Why,  such  a  man's  time 
ought  to  be  valued  at  about  a  dollar  a  minute." 


166  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Then  Phil  was  rich,  Lucia  said  to  herself.  She 
did  not  much  care,  and  she  knew  even  less,  about 
business-details ;  a  fortune  on  paper  was  as  good  as 
any  other  kind,  so  far  as  she  knew ;  but  what  she 
did  very  distinctly  understand  was  that  no  one,  not 
even  her  mother,  would  again  have  occasion  to  speak 
of  Phil  as  a  poor  man,  or  even  a  countryman.  Some 
young  men  who  were  accounted  great  catches  were 
only  secretaries  and  even  assistant  secretaries  of  one 
thing  or  other ;  she  knew  it,  because  she  had  seen 
their  names  in  dividend  notices  and  other  advertise- 
ments in  newspapers.  How  would  the  change  in 
his  fortunes  affect  her  mother,  she  wondered.  Mrs. 
Tramlay  certainly  was  more  affable  to  the  young 
man  than  she  ever  had  been  before,  and  after  dinner 
she  even  took  Phil's  arm  in  returning  to  the  parlor : 
the  act  signified  nothing  to  Phil,  but  it  set  Lucia's 
little  heart  dancing  gayly.  When  Phil  departed,  soon 
after  dinner,  to  accompany  his  father,  by  request,  to 
a  meeting  of  the  *'  Society  for  the  Amelioration  of 
the  Spiritual  Condition  of  Savage  Tribes,"  Lucia  lost 
very  little  time  in  signalling  Margie  with  her  eyes 
and  going  up  to  her  room.  A  moment  later  Margie 
bounced  in,  closed  the  door,  and  exclaimed, — 

"Lucia  Tramlay  !  I  wouldn't  have  believed  it  if 
I  hadn't  seen  it  with  my  own  eyes.  The  idea  of 
mamma,  with  the  blood  of  a  dozen  High  Dutch  and 
Mayflower  families  in  her  veins,  taking  the  arm  of 
a  countryman !" 

*'  When  there  was  no  call  for  her  to  take  any  one's 
arm,"  added  Lucia,  "  the  affair  being  only  an  every- 
day family  dinner." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  167 

"'Twas  simply  paralyzing,"  said  Margie;  "but 
'twas  a  sign  that  everything  will  be  all  right  from 
this  time  forward.  Dear  me !  I  can  imagine  just 
how  your  new  visiting-cards  will  look  :  ♦  Mrs.  Philip 
Hayn.'  " 

**  Margie,  Margie,"  said  Lucia,  in  a  quick  whisper, 
"  do  be  (juiet.  I  don't  even  know  whether  he  really 
loves  me." 

"That's  because  you  didn't  sit  at  table  where  you 
could  see  his  face  all  the  while,  as  I  did.  Besides,  a 
stone  image  would  fall  in  love  with  you  to-night : 
you  never  looked  so  perfectly  entrancing  in  all  your 
life." 

So,  between  all  she  had  seen  and  heard,  Lucia's 
head  was  crowded  with  pleasant  dreams  long  before 
it  pressed  its  pillow. 


CHAPTEK    XIX. 

HOPES  AND  FEARS. 

Between  his  duties  at  the  office  of  the  Haynton 
Bay  Improvement  Company  and  his  earnest  desire 
to  master  the  mysteries  of  the  iron  trade,  Philip 
Hayn  found  very  little  time  for  dropping  into  moody 
reflections.  Like  many  another  young  man  in  busi- 
ness, he  became  convinced  that  a  great  deal  of  tell- 
ing work  might  be  done  outside  of  business-hours : 
so  he  spent  many  evenings  and  occasional  days  in 
endeavoring  to  forward  the  interests  of  his  employer, 
and  of  the  Improvement  Company,  in  which  Mr. 
Tramlay  was  as  largely  interested  as  himself. 

He  had  more  than  business  to  absorb  his  thoughts, 
for  his  stock  of  knowledge  regarding  human  nature 
was  at  first  entirely  inadequate  to  the  demands 
made  upon  it.  At  Haynton  it  was  a  safe  rule  that 
a  man  whose  appearance  and  manner  were  those  of 
a  gentleman  could  be  safely  regarded  as,  at  least,  an 
honest  man ;  in  New  York  he  found  this  assump- 
tion caused  some  of  his  plans  to  be  utterly  shattered 
by  Tramlay's  more  experienced  hand.  The  railroad- 
men who  wanted  iron,  to  be  paid  for  partly  by  stock 
in  their  roads,  he  learned  to  distrust  if  they  were 
habitually  well  dressed  and  wore  kid  gloves  when 
visiting  Tramlay's  oflace,  but  he  occasionally  saw  his 
168 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  169 

employer  neglect  an  appointment,  even  with  hia 
family,  and  devote  his  entire  time  to  some  insignifi- 
cant, badly-dressed  little  fellow,  and  even  to  an  occa- 
sional awkward  man  who  seemed,  as  he  really  was, 
the  farmer-secretary  and  treasurer  of  a  lot  of  fellow- 
farmers  who  had  planned  a  short  road  for  their  own 
benefit.  The  amount  of  cash  that  such  a  man  could 
pay  was  seldom  large,  but  not  so  the  probable  profit 
on  the  stock  which  Tramlay  received  *'  to  boot." 

A  pleasing  relief  from  the  work  of  his  two  offices 
was  Phil's  occasional  evenings  at  Tramlay's  home, 
which  he  had  been  so  heartily  urged  to  regard  as  his 
own  that  he  no  longer  waited  for  special  invitations. 
In  spite  of  his  pressing  duties,  he  had  devoted  him- 
self to  being  "  nice,"  as  Lucia  had  termed  the  condi- 
tion which  made  the  family  avail  themselves  of  the 
services  of  Mr.  Tramlay's  clerks.  He  improved  upon 
his  instructions  so  far  as  always  to  have  in  his 
pockets  enough  postage-stamps  for  the  girls'  letters, 
and  to  see  that  boxes  of  candies  from  "the  place 
somewhere  down  town"  reached  the  house  without 
first  lying  neglected  for  a  day  or  two  upon  his  em- 
ployer's desk.  When  Margie  and  Lucia  were  return- 
ing from  a  short  visit  out  of  town,  he  was  at  station, 
wliarf,  or  ferry  to  meet  them,  regardless  of  what 
railway-magnate  from  out  of  town  might  be  already 
accessible  at  a  hotel,  and  the  pang  of  hurrying  away 
afterward  was  always  sweetened  by  the  gentle  pro- 
tests that  no  subsequent  conversation  could  banish 
from  his  ear. 

And  yet,  as  he  informed  himself  in  occasional 
moments  of  leisure,  the  interest  that  lay  closest  to 
u  15 


170  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

his  heart  was  not  being  advanced  visibly.  Lucia 
seemed  always  glad  to  meet  him,  always  sorry 
to  part  with  him ;  but  was  she  not  so  to  all 
mere  acquaintances  whose  society  was  not  un- 
pleasing?  She  never  made  an  excuse  to  cut  short 
his  conversation,  no  matter  if  he  talked  on  sub- 
jects of  which  she  evidently  was  ignorant ;  but 
had  he  not  always  been  accustomed  to  patient 
listeners?  She  sometimes  asked  questions  that 
seemed  beyond  her  taste,  as  the  subjects  certainly 
were  beyond  her  ken ;  but  might  not  ordinary 
human  desire  for  knowledge  prompt  any  girl  to  do 
the  same  ? 

Sometimes  he  would  bitterly  inform  himself  that 
of  his  host's  two  daughters  any  listener  might  im- 
agine Margie,  instead  of  her  sister,  the  object  of  his 
affection.  Margie,  whose  feelings  and  manner  and 
enthusiasm  lacked  the  restraint  which  a  year  or  two 
of  society  will  impose  on  an  observing  maiden,  was 
as  artless  and  eff'usive  and  affectionate  as  if  Phil  were 
an  ideal  older  brother,  if  not  a  lover.  Of  course 
Margie  was  not  in  love  with  him ;  for  was  she  not 
continually  sounding  Lucia's  praises?  To  her  the 
world  seemed  to  live  and  move  and  have  its  being 
solely  for  Lucia.  Phil  had  never  before  seen  such 
affection  between  sisters,  and  it  seemed  all  the  more 
wonderful  as  he  recalled  some  frequent  passages  of 
words  in  which  the  two  girls  had  indulged  at  Hayn 
Farm,  not  a  half-year  before.  Margie  seemed  to  have 
adopted  him  as  a  big  brother,  and  it  was  quite  de- 
lightful, as  well  as  a  new  sensation,  he  having  no 
sisters  of  his  own,  but  he  did  wish  that  the  same 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  171 

spirit— not  exactly  the  same,  either — might  be  mani- 
fested by  Lucia. 

Another  disquieting  4;hought  came  from  the  fre- 
quency with  which  Marge  visited  the  Tramlay  abode. 
He  had  heard  almost  too  much  of  Marge  before  lie 
ever  saw  him,  but  now  he  saw  far  more.  It  seemed  , 
that  Pliil  never  could  visit  the  Tramlays  without 
either  finding  Marge  already  there,  or  having  him 
come  in  just  as  a  pleasant  tdte-d-Mte  with  Lucia  was 
fairly  under  way.  That  Marge  did  not  approve  of 
the  cordiality  with  which  Phil  was  received  was 
quite  evident,  in  spite  of  his  impassive  demeanor, 
and  Phil  felt  none  the  easier  that  Marge  showed  him 
many  courtesies,  and  introduced  him  quite  freely 
among  his  club  acquaintances.  Marge  explained 
that  many  of  these  gentlemen  had  money  and  might 
be  persuaded  to  purcliase  cottage-sites  of  the  Haynton 
Bay  Company ;  but  if  this  was  his  purpose  why  did 
he  not  conduct  the  negotiations  himself?  Occasion- 
ally Pliil  suspected  that  there  were  dark  designs 
hidden  in  Marge's  invitations  to  quiet  little  games  at 
the  club,  and  his  rather  sneering  replies,  to  Phil's 
refusals,  that  all  gentlemen  played  cards  sometimes ; 
still,  such  games  as  he  chanced  to  see  were  not  for 
large  sums,  nor  were  they  attended  by  any  of  the 
excitement  that  is  supposed  to  make  inexperienced 
players  reckless. 

Almost  as  disturbing  was  Mrs.  Tramlay's  manner. 
At  times  she  was  affable  and  almost  hearty  in  her 
manner  toward  Phil ;  again  she  was  reserved  and 
distant.  What  did  it  mean?  Did  she  divine  his 
purpose  and  resent  it?  or  could  it  be  that  she  was 


172  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

impatient  that  he  did  not  pay  his  court  with  more 
fervor?  Could  he  have  overheard  some  of  the  con- 
versations of  which  he  was  the  subject,  he  would 
have  been  enlightened,  yet  scarcely  more  hopeful. 

"  Edgar,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay  to  her  husband  one 
evening,  "young  Hayn  comes  here  so  much  that  no 
one  else  is  likely  to  visit  Lucia  with  any  serious  in- 
tentions." 

"Well,  why  should  they?"  asked  her  husband. 
**  Isn't  he  good  enough  for  a  son-in-law?" 

"  I'm  not  even  sure  that  he  aspires  to  that  posi- 
tion," said  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

**  Aren't  you?  I'm  afraid,  then,  you'll  soon  need 
to  wear  glasses,  my  dear." 

"Don't  joke  about  it,  please:  it's  a  serious  sub- 
ject." 

"Yes,"     sighed     the     merchant;     "one's     first 


"  You  know  very  well  I  don't  mean  glasses,"  said 
the  lady,  with  some  petulance.  "This  is  Lucia's 
second  season,  and  desirable  young  men  are  rare. 
'Twould  be  unfair  to  her  to  have  a  man  dawdling 
about  her,  acting  frequently  as  her  escort " 

"  Assisted  by  her  mother " 

"That  doesn't  alter  the  case:  it  makes  it  all  the 
graver  in  other  people's  eyes." 

"Well,  my  dear,  I  see  plainly  enough  that  young 
Hayn  has  fixed  intentions  ;  and  I'm  as  fully  satisfied 
that  they  are  entirely  to  Lu's  taste." 

"Then  the  question  is,  should  it  be  allowed  to  go 
on?" 

"  Why  not,  if  they  love  each  other,  or  want  to?'* 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  173 

"Because  we  want  our  ftrst  daughter  to  make  as 
good  a  match  as  possible,  and  I  don't  see  that  the 
young  man's  prospects  are  very  brilliant.  If  the 
Improvement  Company  shouldn't  succeed,  he'll  be 
nothing  but  your  clerk,  with  no  certainty  nor  any 
expectations." 

"  I  feel  entirely  easy  about  the  money  I've  put  into 
the  Improvement  Company,"  said  the  merchant, 
"and  Phil  will  do  as  well  as  I,  he  having  an  equal 
number  of  shares.  If  worst  comes  to  worst  with  him 
from  that  speculation,  and  he  and  Lu  continue  to  like 
each  other,  I  can  take  him  into  partnership.  That 
would  give  him  financial  standing :  there  are  plenty 
of  young  men  of  good  families  who  would  pay  well 
for  such  an  opportunity,  for  iron  is  up,  and  to  stay." 

Mrs.  Tramlay  tossed  her  head,  and  replied,  "I 
didn't  ever  suppose  it  would  be  necessary  to  set  a 
young  man  upon  his  feet  in  order  to  get  a  husband 
for  one  of  our  daughters." 

**  Quite  right :  don't  suppose  so  yet,  either,  for  I 
assure  you  he  is  fully  earning  whatever  it  might  be 
necessary  to  give  him.  I  find  that  he  makes  a  very 
favorable  impression  upon  the  class  of  people  who 
visit  the  iron-houses,  or  whom  the  iron-houses  look 
after.  He's  already  got  two  or  three  desirable  little 
orders,  besides  being  on  the  track  of  others." 

"But  he's  only  a  clerk,  after  all,"  persisted  Mrs. 
Tramlay. 

"  Say  but  the  word,  and  I'll  make  him  my  partner 
to-morrow,"  said  Tramlay. 

"  Don't  be  hasty,"  replied  the  lady,  in  some  alarm. 
"  He  is  not  Lucia's  only  chance,  you  know." 
15* 


174  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Tramlay  looked  inquiringly ;  his  wife  appeared 
embarrassed,  and  averted  her  eyes. 

"  Oh  !  You  mean  Marge,  I  suppose?  Well,  if  Lu 
should  really  want  him,  I  wouldn't  like  to  make  her 
unhappy  by  saying  no.  But  really,  my  dear," — here 
the  merchant  put  his  arm  around  his  wife, — "  really, 
now,  don't  you  think  that  a  man  who  was  a  beau  of 
yours  a  quarter  of  a  century  ago  is  rather  mature  to 
be  the  husband  of  an  impulsive  girl?" 

"Young  wives  can't  live  on  impulse  alone,"  said 
Mrs.  Tramlay.     "  Mr.  Marge  has  means." 

**  Not  to  any  great  extent,  that  any  one  has  been 
able  to  discover,"  interrupted  the  merchant. 

"And  he  has  social  position,  which  is  of  more  im- 
portance in  New  York  than  anything  else,"  continued 
the  wife.  "  He  knows  many  prominent  people  whom 
we  do  not,  and  if  he  were  to  marry  Lucia  it  would 
improve  Margie's  opportunities.  We  haven't  gone 
into  society  as  much  as  we  should,  and  I'm  afraid 
our  daughters  will  have  to  suffer  for  it." 

"Don't  trouble  your  head  with  any  such  fears," 
said  the  husband,  with  more  than  his  usual  earnest- 
ness. "Girls  like  ours — bless  them  ! — aren't  going  to 
make  bad  matches." 

"Besides,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  retracing  her 
thoughts,  "Mr.  Marge  doesn't  look  the  least  bit  old  : 
he  is  not  the  kind  of  man  to  grow  old.  I  can't  see 
that  he  appears  a  day  older  than  he  did  years  ago." 

"Bless  your  sentimental  heart!"  said  the  mer- 
chant. "He  doesn't,  eh?  Well,  it  does  you  credit  to 
think  so,  and  it  doesn't  make  me  jealous  in  the  least." 

"  If  the  Company  succeeds,"  continued  Mrs.  Tram- 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  175 

lay,  "Mr.  Marge  will  be  as  much  the  gainer  as  you 
or  young  Hayn,  won't  he?" 

"Certainly." 

"Then  he'll  be  that  much  better  off  than  this 
young  man  you're  so  fond  of?" 

"Yes,  if  he  does  nothing  foolish  in  the  mean  time ; 
but  I  have  my  doubts  of  the  financial  stability  of  any 
man  who  can't  pass  a  stock-ticker  without  looking 
at  it.  Wall  Street  exists  solely  for  the  purpose  of 
absorbing  such  men's  money." 

"Mr.  Marge  is  no  fool,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

"  He's  no  wiser  than  some  veterans  who  have  had 
to  leave  their  millions  in  the  street  and  live  on  their 
children  for  ever  after." 

"  The  Improvement  Company  has  only  about  forty 
acres,  I  believe  you  said?" 

"Just  forty." 

"And  two  thousand  an  acre  is  the  most  you  hope 
for?" 

"Yes." 

"  That  would  be  eighty  thousand  dollars  :  four  into 
eighty  goes  twenty  times,  and " 

"  If  I'd  known  you'd  such  a  head  for  business  I 
would  have  asked  you  to  put  a  housekeeper  in  charge 
of  the  family,  so  I  could  have  your  services  at  the 
office,"  said  Tramlay. 

"Twenty  thousand  dollars  would  be  very  little  for 
a  young  man  to  marry  on  in  New  York, — and  in  our 
set." 

"Twenty  thousand,  and  a  salary  which  I  must 
soon  increase  in  simple  justice ;  also,  expectations 
from  his  father's  estate  in  the  course  of  time.    I  don't 


176  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

remember  to  have  told  you,  though,  that  the  young 
man  was  long-headed  enough  to  suggest  tl  lat  his  father 
should  buy  options  on  the  continuation  of  the  ridge, — 
there  are  several  hundred  acres  in  all,  distributed 
among  different  farms, — and  the  old  fellow  has  worked 
it  so  skilfully  that  we  have  the  refusal  of  it  all,  for  a 
year,  at  a  trifling  outlay  in  money.  There's  genuine 
city  business  capacity  in  that  young  man's  head, — he  ?' ' 

"  It  appears  so,"  Mrs.  Tramlay  admitted. 

This  admission  might  have  been  of  great  comfort 
to  Phil  could  he  have  heard  it,  but,  as  he  never  re- 
ceived any  information,  except  through  his  alterna- 
ting hopes  and  suspicions,  he  was  obliged  to  remain 
in  doubt.  His  principal  hope,  aside  from  that  based 
on  Lucia's  willingness  to  devote  any  amount  of  time 
to  him,  was  obtained  through  the  manner  of  the 
head  of  the  family.  Tramlay  was  communicative 
as  wise  merchants  usually  are  to  their  employees ; 
he  was  also  confidential :  evidently  he  trusted  Phil 
implicitly,  for  he  told  the  new  clerk  all  his  business 
expectations  and  hopes,  instructed  him  carefully  re- 
garding every  one  whom  the  young  man  was  to  see 
for  business-purposes,  and  threw  much  important 
"work  upon  him.  It  seemed  impossible  to  misconstrue 
the  purpose  of  all  this :  at  the  very  least,  it  implied  a 
high  order  of  respect ;  and  the  respect  of  a  possible 
father-in-law  was  not  an  ally  to  be  underrated. 
Besides,  Tramlay  frequently  put  Lucia  in  his  charge 
when  she  was  out  for  an  evening ;  and  this  implied 
a  still  higher  order  of  trust. 

But,  after  all,  the  hopes  that  were  strongest  and 
most  abiding  were  formed  in  the  Tramlay  parlor, 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  177 

while  Lucia  was  apparently  only  acting  the  part  of 
a  listener.  The  young  man  occasionally  found  him- 
self expressing  his  own  opinion  freely,  and  to  great 
extent,  on  subjects  that  interested  him,  and  the  flow 
of  language  was  interrupted  only  by  badly-concealed 
yawns  from  Mrs.  Tramlay  and  Margie.  Where  to 
them  could  be  the  interest  in  the  latest  campaign 
against  the  Indians,  or  methods  of  ventilating  school- 
rooms, or  the  supposed  moral  purpose  underlying 
England's  continued  occupation  of  Egypt?  Such 
questions  were  fit  only  for  men,  thought  Mrs.  Tramlay 
and  her  second  daughter :  the  mother  sometimes  said, 
after  excusing  herself  from  impromptu  lectures  on 
these  or  kindred  topics,  that  the  young  man  from 
the  country  loved  to  hear  himself  talk,  and  Margie 
half  believed  that  Phil  only  began  what  she  denomi- 
nated '*  harangues"  in  order  to  clear  the  room,  so  that 
he  might  have  Lucia  to  himself. 

But  to  all  that  Phil  said,  no  matter  how  heavy  the 
subject,  Lucia  listened  patiently,  attentively,  and 
often  with  an  air  of  interest.  Sometimes  she  attained 
sufficient  grasp  of  a  statement  to  reconstruct  it,  in 
words,  though  not  in  facts,  and  return  it  to  the  origi- 
nal maker,  who,  in  the  blindness  of  bliss,  immediately 
attributed  it  to  Lucia's  mental  superiority  to  the  re- 
mainder of  the  family.  Had  he  seen  her  afterward 
perplexedly  pinching  her  brow  as  she  appealed  to 
cyclopcedia  or  dictionary  to  make  his  meaning  clearer, 
he  might  have  revised  his  opinion  as  to  her  intellect, 
yet  he  would  have  been  the  surer  of  what  to  him, 
just  then,  was  more  desirable  than  the  collective 
intellect  of  the  world. 


CHAPTER   XX. 

AN  OLD  QUESTION  REPEATED. 

Mr.  Marge  had  breathed  a  gentle  sigh  of  relief 
when  he  heard  of  Philip  Hayn's  sudden  departure 
from  the  metropolis  :  had  he  known  the  cause  of  the 
young  man's  exit  he  would  in  gratitude  have  given 
a  fine  dinner  to  the  male  gossip  who  had  said  in 
Phil's  hearing  that  Marge  was  to  marry  Lucia.  Not 
knowing  of  this  rumor,  he  called  at  the  Tramlay 
abode,  ostensibly  to  invite  Lucia  and  her  mother 
to  the  theatre,  and  from  the  manner  of  the  ladies 
he  assumed  that  Phil,  with  the  over-confidence  of 
youth,  had  proposed  and  been  rejected.  Marge's 
curiosity  as  to  what  the  head  of  the  family  could 
want  of  the  young  man  was  allayed  by  Mrs.  Tram- 
lay's  statement  that  the  visit  was  due  wholly  to 
her  husband's  ridiculous  manner  of  inviting  each 
country  acquaintance  to  come  and  see  him  if  he 
ever  reached  New  York ;  his  subsequent  hospitality 
to  Philip  was  only  for  the  purpose  of  keeping  on 
good  terms  with  some  old-fashioned  people  who 
might  some  day  again  be  useful  as  hosts,  and  who 
could  not  be  managed  exactly  as  professional  keepers 
of  boarding-houses. 

But  Marge's  curiosity  was  rearoused  the  very  day 
after  he  received  this  quieting  information,  for  he 
178 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  179 

chanced  to  meet  the  merchant  with  the  young  man's 
father,  and  was  introduced  to  tlie  latter. 

"Instantly  the  old  question  returned  to  his  lips, 
"  Wliat  can  Tramlay  want  of  that  fellow?"  Again 
his  curiosity  subsided,  when  he  learned  of  the  cot- 
tage-city project,  and,  while  agreeing  to  assume  a 
quarter  of  the  expense  of  the  enterprise,  he  compli- 
mented Tramlay  on  his  ability  to  find  something 
to  profit  by,  even  while  ostensibly  enjoying  an  occa- 
sional day's  rest  in  the  country.  But  when,  a  day 
or  two  later,  Phil  reappeared  and  was  presented  to 
him  as  the  old  farmer's  representative, — as  tlie  real 
holder,  in  fact,  of  a  full  quarter  of  the  company's 
stock, — Marge  looked  suspiciously  at  the  merchant, 
and  asked  himself, — 
"  What  can  Tramlay  want  of  that  fellow  ?" 
Reasoning  according  to  the  principles  on  wJiich 
many  small  real-estate  companies  or  corporations  de- 
veloping a  patent  are  formed.  Marge  soon  informed 
himself  that  Tramlay,  whose  shrewdness  he  had 
always  held  in  high  respect,  preferred  the  son  to 
the  father,  as  being  the  easier  victim  of  the  two. 
The  processes  of  frightening  out  or  "freezing  out" 
an  inventor  or  farmer  who  had  put  his  property  in 
the  hands  of  a  stock  company  were  not  entirely 
unknown  to  Marge,  and  he  naturally  assumed  that 
they  would  be  easier  of  application  to  a  green  young 
man  like  Philip  than  to  a  clear-headed  old  man,  as 
farmer  Hayn  seemed  to  be.  But  if  the  rural  element 
of  the  company  was  to  be  despoiled  of  its  own,  Marge 
proposed  to  see  that  not  all  the  spoils  should  go  to 
the  merchant.    How  better  could  he  improve  his  own 


180  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

position  with  Tramlay  than  by  making  himself  the 
merchant's  superior  in  finesse  ?  He  would  have  the 
advantage  of  being  able  to  watch  Phil  closely,  and 
of  knowing  first  when  he  might  be  inclined  to  sell 
out  at  a  sacrifice :  should  the  young  man,  like  most 
of  his  age  and  extraction,  develop  an  insatiable  appe- 
tite for  city  joys  that  cost  money,  he.  Marge,  would 
cheerfully  supply  him  with  money  from  time  to  time, 
taking  his  stock  as  security,  and  some  day  the  mer- 
chant would  suddenly  find  himself  beaten  at  his 
own  game.  The  mere  thought  of  such  a  triumph 
impelled  the  deliberate  Marge  to  take  a  small  bottle 
of  champagne  with  his  mid-day  luncheon, — a  luxury 
w^hich  he  usually  reserved  until  evening,  at  the  club. 
But  again  he  was  startled  when  a  light-headed 
friend  complained  that,  although  the  said  friend's 
father  had  been  promised  a  place  for  his  son  in 
Tramlay 's  oflice  when  the  iron  trade  should  look 
up,  Tramlay  had  taken  in  a  countryman  instead. 
His  own  eyes  soon  confirmed  the  intelligence,  and, 
as  Tramlay  made  no  explanation  or  even  mention 
of  the  fact,  Marge  again  found  himself  asking, — 
"  What  can  Tramlaj'-  want  of  that  fellow  ?" 
Evidently  it  meant  either  business  or  Lucia.  Per- 
haps the  merchant  during  the  long  depression  of  the 
iron  trade  had  borrowed  money  of  the  young  man's 
fiither,  or  was  now  borrowing  of  him,  to  avail  him- 
self of  his  increasing  opportunities.  (Marge  had  the 
city  man's  customary  but  erroneous  impression  as  to 
the  bank-surplus  of  the  average  "  well-to-do"  farmer.) 
If  Tramlay  were  merely  a  borrower,  except  against 
notes  and  bills  receivable,  iron  had  not  looked  up 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  181 

enough  to  justify  a  prudent  man  in  becoming  the 
merchant's  son-in-law.  If  there  had  been  such 
transactions,  perhaps  a  share  of  the  business  was 
to  pay  for  them.  Inquiries  of  his  banking-acquaint- 
ances did  not  make  the  matter  clearer  to  Marge ;  so 
he  resolved  to  devote  himself  to  the  new  clerk,  as 
he  could  safely  do  in  his  capacity  of  co-director  of 
the  Improvement  Company.  The  young  man  had 
considerable  self-possession,  Marge  admitted  to  him- 
self ;  but  what  would  it  avail  against  the  fine  methods 
of  a  man  of  twice  his  years,  all  spent  among  men 
who  considered  it  legitimate  business  to  pry  into  the 
business-afTairs  of  others? 

So  Marge  began  operations  at  once ;  no  time  was 
to  be  lost.  He  had  no  difficulty  in  making  his  ap- 
proaches, and  his  courtesies  were  so  deftly  offered 
that  Phil  could  not  help  accepting  many  of  them 
and  feeUng  grateful  for  kindness  rendered.  The 
young  man's  suspicions  were  soon  disarmed,  for,  like 
honorable  natures  in  general,  he  abhorred  suspicion. 
That  there  was  a  purpose  in  all  of  Marge's  actions 
Phil  could  not  avoid  believing,  but  little  by  little  he 
reached  the  conclusion  that  it  was  simply  to  forward 
the  Improvement  Company's  prospects.  As  Marge 
himself  said,  Phil  knew  the  company's  land  thor- 
oughly, and  was  the  only  person  who  could  talk  of  it 
intelligently.  Any  vestiges  of  distrust  that  remained 
were  swept  away  when  Marge  succeeded  in  having 
the  privileges  of  his  club  extended  to  Phil  for  three 
months,  pending  application  for  admission.  It  was 
a  small  club,  and  exclusive;  Phil  heard  it  named 
almost  reverently  by  some  young  men  who  longed 
16 


182  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

to  pass  its  portals,  and  among  its  members  were  a 
few  men  of  a  social  set  more  prominent  than  that  in 
which  the  Tramlays  moved. 

To  Marge's  delight,  Phil  began  to  spend  money 
freely  at  the  club  :  Marge  had  seen  other  young  men 
do  likewise,  and  there  was  but  one  end  to  be  expected 
if  their  parents  are  not  rich.  Phil  drank  no  wine, 
smoked  no  cigars,  yet  when  he  thought  it  proper  to 
give  a  little  dinner  the  best  that  the  club's  caterer 
could  supply  was  on  the  table.  He  did  not  seem  to 
have  any  other  expensive  habits,  except  that  he 
dressed  so  carefully  that  his  tailor's  bill  must  be 
large  ;  still,  a  man  who  gives  dinners  at  clubs  must 
have  plenty  of  money.  From  being  a  source  of 
gratification,  Phil's  free  use  of  money  began  gradu- 
ally to  cause  Marge  dismay.  Where  did  it  all  come 
from  ?  He  could  scarcely  be  earning  it  in  his  capacity 
of  junior  clerk  in  an  iron-house.  Could  it  be  that 
Tramlay  had  him  in  training  for  the  position  of  son- 
iu-laWy  and  was  paying  the  cost  of  introducing  him 
favorably  to  the  notice  of  some  sets  of  New  York 
society  to  whom  he  could  not  present  him  at  his  own 
house?  Such  a  course  would  be  quite  judicious  in  a 
father  desiring  wider  acquaintance  for  his  daughter 
when  she  should  become  a  bride ;  but,  if  it  really 
were  being  pursued,  would  he.  Marge,  ever  hear  the 
end  of  the  rallying  to  which  his  own  part  in  the 
programme  would  subject  him? 

There  was  more  torment  in  this  view  of  the  case 
than  Marge  had  ever  experienced  in  his  life  before, 
and  it  robbed  him  at  times  of  his  habitual  expression 
to  an  extent  that  was  noticeable  and  made  him  the 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  183 

subject  of  some  club  chat.  No  matter  how  exclusive 
a  club  may  be,  no  matter  how  careful  in  the  selection 
of  its  members  that  none  but  gentlemen  may  be  upon 
its  list,  it  cannot  prevent  a  small,  gradual,  but  dis- 
tinct and  persistent  aggregation  of  gossips,— fellows 
whose  energies,  such  as  they  are,  tend  solely  to  inves- 
tigation of  the  affairs  of  their  acquaintances.  There 
was  not  an  hour  of  the  day  or  night  when  several  of 
these  fellows  could  not  be  found  at  Marge's  club, 
lounging  as  listlessly  and  inconspicuously  as  so  many 
incurables  at  a  hospital,  but  Marge  knew  by  experi- 
ence that  these  were  the  only  fellows  worth  going  to 
if  he  wanted  to  know  all  that  was  being  said  about 
a  member,  particularly  if  it  was  uncomplimentary. 
And  now,  confound  them,  possibly  they  were  talking 
about  him,  and  intimating  that  he  was  being  used  to 
improve  the  standing  of  his  own  rival ! 

Still,  as  he  informed  himself,  all  his  annoyance 
came  from  a  mere  supposition,  which  might  be  en- 
tirely without  foundation.  Perhaps  the  young  man 
had  means  of  his  own ;  he  had  not  looked  like  it 
when  he  first  appeared  in  New  York,  but  appearances 
sometimes  were  deceitful.  Marge  had  heard  Tramlay 
allude  to  Phil's  father  as  an  honest  old  farmer  to 
whom  fortune  had  not  been  any  too  generous ;  but 
perhaps  he  had  been  estimating  the  old  man's  pos- 
sessions only  by  New  York  standards :  was  it  not 
the  farming-class  that  originally  took  up  the  greater 
part  of  the  government's  great  issues  of  bonds? 

And,  yet,  if  the  young  man  had  money  of  his  own 
or  of  his  father's,  where  did  he  keep  it?  Had  he 
ever  displayed  a  check,  to  indicate  his  banking-place, 


184  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Marge  would  have  found  ways  of  ascertaining  the 
size  and  nature  of  his  account.  But,  tliough  he  had 
several  times  seen  Phil  pay  bills  which  were  rather 
large,  the  settlements  were  always  made  with  cur- 
rency. Was  it  possible.  Marge  asked  himself,  that 
the  traditional  old  stocking  was  still  the  favorite 
bank  of  deposit  for  the  rural  community  ?  It  might 
have  relieved  his  mind  to  know  that  the  country- 
man's customary  method,  when  he  has  money,  is  to 
carry  a  great  deal  of  currency,  and  that  instead  of 
making  payments  by  check  he  draws  bank-notes 
with  which  to  pay. 

And  so  the  weeks  went  on,  and  Marge  did  not 
accomplish  anything  that  he  had  intended  when  he 
began  to  devote  himself  to  the  young  man  from  the 
country.  Phil  borrowed  no  money,  squandered  none 
at  cards,  did  not  run  into  dissipation,  offered  no  con- 
fidences, and,  although  entirely  approachable,  was 
as  secretive  about  his  personal  affairs  as  if  he  had 
been  sworn  to  silence.  Even  on  the  subject  of  Lucia, 
which  Marge  had  cautiously  approached  several 
times,  he  talked  with  a  calmness  that  made  Marge 
doubt  the  evidence  of  his  own  senses.  Phil  did  not 
even  wince  when  Marge  reminded  him  of  the  horse 
he  knew  of  that  would  match  Marge's  own,  the  reason 
assigned  being  that  the  sleighing-season  was  coming 
and  he  would  be  likely  to  frequently  take  the  ladies 
of  the  Tramlay  family  out  behind  two  horses.  On 
the  contrary,  Phil  had  the  horse  found  and  sent  to 
New  York  at  his  own  expense,  saying  he  could  make 
himself  even  by  selling,  in  case  the  animal  did  not 
please  Marge. 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  185 

The  horse  arrived  ;  he  pleased  Marge,  who  was  de- 
lighted with  the  impression  the  new  team  made  upon 
the  family  and  his  acquaintances  generally,  Phil  in- 
cluded. Marge  was  not  equally  pleased,  however, 
when  within  a  few  days  farmer  Hayn  sent  his  son  a 
pair  of  black  horses  which,  thougli  of  no  blood  in 
particular,  had  a  quality  of  spirit  and  style  not  to  be 
expected  of  high-born  animals  long  accustomed  to 
city  pavements  and  restricted  to  the  funereal  gait 
prescribed  by  Park  Commissioners'  regulations.  With 
their  equally  untamed  country-bred  owner  to  drive 
them,  the  span  created  quite  a  sensation,  and,  to 
Marge's  disgust,  the  Tramlays  seemed  to  prefer  them 
to  the  pair  on  which  he  had  incurred  extra  expense 
for  the  sake  of  Lucia  and  her  mother. 

His  plans  foiled,  his  wonderings  unanswered,  his 
direct  questions  evaded,  his  enemy  persisting  in  act- 
ing only  as  a  friend  might  act,  and  the  father  of  his 
intended  avoiding  mention  of  Phil  so  carefully  as  to 
excite  suspicion,  yet  inviting  Marge  to  his  house  as 
freely  as  ever,  the  man  of  the  world  was  unable  to 
reacli  any  fixed  decision,  and  was  obliged  again  and 
again  to  repeat  to  himself  the  question,— 

"  What  can  Tramlay  want  of  that  fellow  ?" 


16* 


CHAPTER   XXI. 

HAYNTON  BOUSES  ITSELF. 

One  of  the  blissful  possessions  of  the  man  of  mature 
years  is  the  self-control  which  spares  its  possessor  the 
necessity  of  consuming  time  and  vitality  in  profitless 
excitement.  Farmer  Hayn,  returning  to  his  native 
village,  had  a  great  deal  more  on  his  mind  than  Phil 
when  that  youth  preceded  him  a  few  days  before. 
It  is  true  that  Phil  was  bemoaning  what  he  believed 
to  be  the  loss  of  a  sweetheart,  but  the  old  man's 
thoughts  were  equally  full  of  the  possible  gain  of  a 
daughter, —  an  earthly  possession  he  had  longed  for 
through  many  years  but  been  denied.  He  had  also  a 
large  and  promising  land-speculation  to  engage  his 
thoughts, — a  speculation  which,  apparently,  would 
bring  the  family  more  gain  in  a  year  than  three  gen- 
erations of  Hayns  had  accumulated  in  a  century. 
He  was  planning  more  enjoyments  for  his  gray- 
haired,  somewhat  wrinkled  old  wife,  should  the 
Improvement  Company's  plans  succeed,  than  any 
happy  youth  ever  devised  for  his  bride,  and  he  knew 
exactly  how  they  would  affect  the  good  woman, — a 
privilege  which  is  frequently  denied  the  newly-made 
husband. 

And  yet  his  mind  and  countenance  were  as  serene 
and  undisturbed  as  if  he  were  merely  looking  forward 
186 


COUNTRY  LUCK  187 

to  the  peaceable  humdrum  of  a  farmer's  winter.  The 
appearance  of  fields  and  forests  past  which  the  train 
hurried  him  did  not  depress  him  as  they  did  his  son  ; 
a  shabby  farm-house  merely  made  him  thank  heaven 
that  his  own  was  more  sightly  and  comfortable  ;  a  bit 
of  pine-barren  or  scrub-oak  reminded  him,  to  his  great 
satisfaction,  that  his  own  woodland  could  be  trusted 
to  pay  some  profit,  to  say  nothing  of  taxes  and  in- 
terest. Even  swampy  lowlands  caused  his  heart  to 
warm  with  pride  that  his  strong  arm  and  stronger 
will  had  transformed  similar  bogs  into  ground  more 
fertile  than  some  to  which  nature  had  been  kinder. 

Nor  did  he  lose  his  serenity  when  the  natives  came 
down  on  him,  lilvC  a  famished  horde  of  locusts,  and 
demanded  news  of  what  was  going  on  in  the  city. 
He  cheerfully  told  them  nearly  everything  he  knew, 
and  parried  undesirable  questions  without  losing  his 
temper.  He  pointed  with  pride  to  his  sub-soil  plough 
and  his  wife's  new  bread-pan,  and  told  how  the  lenses 
in  his  new  spectacles  had  been  made  to  equalize  the 
strength  of  his  eyes,  instead  of  being  both  alike,  as 
in  the  glasses  at  tlie  village  stores.  He  had  heard 
all  the  great  preachers,  had  a  good  square  talk  with 
the  commission-merchant  to  whom  most  Haynton 
farm-products  went,  seen  everything  that  the  news- 
papers advertised  as  wonderfully  cheap,  bought  some 
seed  oats  larger  than  any  ever  seen  in  Haynton,  got 
a  Sunday  hat  which  was  neither  too  large  nor  too 
small,  too  young  nor  too  old,  and  added  to  the  family 
collection  of  pictures  a  photograpli  of  the  Washing- 
ton monument  and  an  engraving  of  the  **  Death  of 
President  Garfield." 


188  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Haynton  and  its  environs  simply  quivered  with 
excitement  over  all  the  news  and  personal  property 
which  the  farmer  brought  back ;  but  it  experienced 
deeper  thrills  when  the  old  man  told  his  neighbors 
that  he  knew  of  a  plan  by  which  they  might  get  rid 
of  their  ridge-land  for  an  amount  of  money  the  mere 
interest  of  which  would  bring  them  more  profit  than 
the  crops  coaxed  from  that  thin  soil.  The  plan  would 
benefit  them  still  more  should  the  buyer's  project  suc- 
ceed, for  a  lot  of  cottagers  would  make  a  brisk  cash 
market  for  the  vegetables  which  Haynton  ground 
produced  so  easily,  and  which  Haynton  farmers 
moaned  over  because  they  could  not  at  present  sell 
the  surplus  at  any  price,  much  less  at  the  figures 
which  their  agricultural  newspapers  told  them  were 
to  be  obtained  in  large  cities. 

Would  they  take  ten  dollars  per  acre  for  their 
ridge-land,  the  money  to  be  forfeited  unless  the  re- 
mainder of  two  hundred  per  acre  were  paid  within  a 
year  ?  Would  they  ?  Well,  they  consented  with  such 
alacrity  that  the  farmer  soon  had  to  write  to  New 
York  for  more  currency.  Before  Thanksgiving  Day 
the  Haynton  Bay  Improvement  Company  con- 
trolled a  full  mile  of  shore  front,  and  there  was 
more  money  in  circulation  in  the  village  than  could 
be  remembered  except  by  the  oldest  inliabitant,  who 
was  reminded  of  the  good  old  times  when  in  1813 
a  privateer,  built  and  manned  in  Haynton 's  little 
bay,  had  carried  a  rich  i)rize  into  New  York  and 
come  home  to  spend  the  proceeds.  Small  mortgages 
were  paid  off,  dingy  houses  appeared  in  new  suits 
of  paint,  several  mothers  in  Israel  bought  new  Sun- 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  189 

day  dresses,  two  or  three  farmers  gave  their  old  horses 
and  some  money  for  better  ones,  the  aisle  of  one 
church  was  carpeted  and  another  church  obtained 
the  bell  that  for  years  had  been  longed  for,  a  vet- 
eran pastor  had  fifty  dollars  added  to  his  salary  of 
four  hundred  a  year,  and  got  the  money,  too,  several 
families  began  to  buy  parlor-organs,  on  the  instal- 
ment plan,  one  farmer  indulged  in  the  previously 
unheard-of  extravagance  of  taking  liis  family,  con- 
sisting of  his  wife  and  himself,  to  New  York  to  spend 
the  winter,  and  another  dedicated  his  newly-found 
money  and  his  winter-enforced  leisure  to  the  repre- 
hensible work  of  drinking  himself  to  death. 

**An'  it's  all  on  account  of  a  gal,"  farmer  Hayn 
would  remark  to  his  wife  whenever  he  heard  of  any 
new  movement  that  could  be  traced  to  the  ease  of 
the  local  money  market.  "  If  our  Phil  hadn't  got 
that  Tramlay  gal  on  the  brain  last  summer,  he 
wouldn't  have  gone  to  New  York  to  visit ;  then  I 
wouldn't  have  gone  to  look  for  him,  and  the  Improve- 
ment Company  wouldn't  have  been  got  up,  an'  Phil 
wouldn't  have  hatched  the  brilliant  idee  of  buyin' — 
what  did  he  call  'em?— oh,  yes;  options— buyin' 
options  on  the  rest  of  the  ridge,  an'  there  would  have 
been  no  refreshin'  shower  of  greenbacks  fallin'  like 
the  rain  from  heaven  on  the  just  an'  unjust  alike. 
It  reminds  me  of  the  muss  that  folks  got  into  in  the 
old  country  over  that  woman  Helen,  whose  last  name 
I  never  could  find  out.  You  remember  it? — 'twas 
in  the  book  that  young  minister  we  had  on  trial, 
an'  didn't  exactly  like,  left  at  our  house.  It's  just 
another  such  case,  only  a  good  deal  more  proper, 


190  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

this  not  bein'  a  heathen  land.  All  on  account  of  a 
gal !" 

"If  it  is,"  Mrs.  Hayn  replied  on  one  occasion,  aa 
she  tooli  her  hands  from  the  dough  she  was  kneading, 
"an'  it  certainly  looks  as  if  it  was,  don't  you  think 
it  miglit  be  only  fair  to  allude  to  her  more  respectful  ? 
I  don't  like  to  hear  a  young  woman  that  our  Phil's 
likely  to  marry  spoke  of  as  just  *  that  Tramlay  gal.'  " 

"  S'pose,  then,  I  mention  her  as  your  daughter-in- 
law?  But  ain't  it  odd  that  all  the  changes  that's 
come  to  pass  in  the  last  month  or  two  wouldn't  have 
happened  at  all  if  it  hadn't  been  for  Phil's  bein' 
smitten  by  that  gal  ?  As  the  Scripture  says,  '  Behold 
how  great  a  matter  a  little  fire  kindleth.'  For  'fire^ 
read  'spark,'  or  sparkin',  an'  the  text " 

"Reuben!"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Hayn,  "don't  take 
liberties  with  the  Word." 

"It  ain't  no  liberty,"  said  the  old  man.  "Like 
enough  it'll  read  'spark'  in  the  Revised  Edition." 

"Then  wait  till  it  does,  or  until  you're  one  of  the 
revisers,"  said  the  wife. 

"All  right ;  mebbe  it  would  be  as  well,"  the  husband 
admitted.  "  Meanwhile,  I  don't  mind  turnin'  it  off 
an'  comparin'  it  with  another  text :  *  The  wind 
bloweth  where  it  listeth,  but  thou  canst  not  tell 
whence  it  cometh  or  whither  it  goeth.'  The  startin' 
up  of  Haynton  an'  of  Phil's  attachment  is  a  good 
deal  like " 

"  I  don't  know  that  that's  exactly  reverent,  either," 
said  Mrs.  Hayn,  "considerin'  what  follers  in  the 
Book.  An'  what's  goin'  on  in  the  neighborhood 
don't  interest  me  as  much  as  what's  goin'  on  in  my 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  191 

own  family.  I'd  like  to  kuow  when  things  iscorain' 
to  a  head.  Phil  ain't  married,  nor  even  engaged, 
tftat  we  know  of;  there  ain't  no  lots  bein'  sold  by  the 
company,  or  if  there  are  we  don't  hear  about  it." 

"An'  there's  never  any  bread  bein'  baked  while 
you're  kneadin'  the  dough,  old  lady.  You  remember 
the  passage,  *  first  the  blade,  then  the  ear,  then  the 
full  corn  in  the  ear'  ?  Mustn't  look  for  fruit  in 
blossomin'-time  :  even  Jesus  didn't  find  that  when  he 
looked  for  it  on  a  fig-tree  ahead  of  time,  you  know." 

"  'Pears  to  me  you  run  to  Scripture  more  than  usual 
this  mornin',"  said  Mrs.  Hayn,  after  putting  her  pans 
of  dough  into  the  oven.    **  What's  started  you  ?" 

**  Oh,  only  a  little  kind  of  awakenin',  I  s'pose," 
said  the  old  man.  **  I  can't  keep  my  mind  off  of 
what's  goin'  on  right  under  my  eyes,  an'  it's  so  un- 
like what  anybody  would  have  expected  that  I  can't 
help  goin'  behind  the  returns,  as  they  used  to  say  in 
politics.  An'  when  I  do  that  there's  only  one  way 
of  seein'  'em,  an'  I'm  glad  I've  got  the  eyes  to  see 
'em  in  that  light." 

"  So  am  I,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn,  gently  but  successfully 
putting  a  floury  impression  of  four  fingers  and  a 
thumb  on  her  husband's  head.  "  I  s'pos^  it's  'cause 
I'm  so  tired  of  waitin'  that  I  don't  look  at  things 
just  as  you  do.  'Pears  to  me  there's  nothin'  that 
comes  up,  an'  that  our  hearts  get  set  on,  but  what 
M'e've  got  to  wait  for.  It  gets  to  be  awful  tiresome, 
after  you've  been  at  it  thirty  or  forty  years.  I  think 
Phil  might  hurry  up  matters  a  little." 

"Mebbe  'tisn't  Phil's  fault,"  suggested  the  farmer. 

"Well,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn,  with  a  flash  behind  her 


192  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

glasses,  "I  don't  see  why  any  gal  should  keep  that 
boy  a-waitin',  if  that's  what  you  mean." 

"Don't,  eh?"  drawled  the  old  man,  with  a  queer 
smile  and  a  quizzical  looli.  "Well,  I  s'pose  he  is  a 
good  deal  more  takm'  than  his  father  was." 

"  No  such  thing,"  said  the  old  lady. 

"  Much  obliged  :  I'm  a  good  deal  too  polite  to  con- 
tradict,— when  you're  so  much  in  earnest,  you  know,'^ 
the  old  man  replied.  "But  if  it's  so,  what's  the 
reason  that  you  kept  him  waitin'  ?" 

"  Why,  I — it  was— you  see,  I — 'twas — the  way  of  it 
was — sho  !"  And  Mrs.  Hayn  suddenly  noticed  that 
a  potted  geranium  in  the  kitchen  window  needed  a 
dead  leaf  removed  from  its  base. 

"  Yes,"  said  her  husband,  following  her  with  his 
eyes.  "An'  I  suppose  that's  just  about  what  Phil's 
gal  would  say,  if  any  one  was  to  ask  her.  But  the 
longer  you  waited  the  surer  I  was  of  you,  wasn't  I?" 

"Oh,  don't  ask  questions  when  you  know  the 
answer  as  well  as  I  do,"  said  the  old  lady.  "  I  want 
to  see  things  come  to  a  head  ;  that's  all." 

"They'll  come;  they'll  come,"  said  the  old  man. 
"  It's  tryin'  to  wait,  I  know,  seein'  I'm  doin'  some  of 
the  waitin'  myself;  but  *the  tryin'  of  your  faith 
worketh  patience,'  an'  'let  patience  have  her  perfect 
work,'  you  remember." 

"More  Scripture!"  sighed  the  wife.  "You're 
gettin'  through  a  powerful  sight  of  New  Testament 
this  morn  in',  Beuben,  an'  I  s'pose  I  deserve  it,  seein' 
the  way  I  feel  like  fightin'  it.  But  s'pose  this  com- 
pany speculation  don't  come  to  any  thin'  ?  then  Phil'll 
be  a  good  deal  wuss  off  than  he  is  now,  won't  he? 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  193 

You  remember  the  awful  trouble  Deacon  Trewk  got 
into  by  bein*  the  head  of  that  new-fangled  stump- 
and  stone-puller  company,  that  didn't  pull  any  to 
speak  of.  Everybody  came  down  on  Inm,  an'  called 
him  all  sorts  of  names,  an'  said  he'd  lied  to  'em,  an' 
they  would  go  to  the  poor-house  because  of  the  money 
they'd  put  in  it  on  his  advice,  an' " 

"Phil  won't  have  any  such  trouble,"  said  the 
farmer,  **  for  nobody  took  stock  on  his  advice.  Tram- 
lay  got  up  the  company,  before  we  knew  any  thin' 
about  it,  an'  all  the  puffin'  of  the  land  was  done  by 
him.  Besides,  there's  nobody  in  it  that'll  suffer  much, 
even  if  things  come  to  the  wust.  Except  one  or  two 
dummies,— clerks  of  Tramlay's, — who  were  let  in  for 
a  share  or  two,  just  to  make  up  a  Board  of  Directors 
to  the  legal  size,  what  shares  ain't  held  by  Phil  and 
Tramlay  an'  that  feller  Marge  belongs  to  a  gal." 

**What?    Lucia?" 

**  No,  no,— another  gal :  mebbe  I  ought  to  call  her 
a  woman,  seein'  she's  putty  well  along,  although 
mighty  handsome  an'  smatt.  Her  name's  Dinon, 
an'  Tramlay  joked  Phil  about  her  once  or  twice, 
makin'  out  she  was  struck  by  him,  but  of  course  that's 
all  nonsense.  She's  rich,  an'  got  money  to  invest 
every  once  in  a  while,  an'  Tramlay  put  her  up  to  this 
little  operation." 

"You're  sure  she  ain^t  interested  in  Phil?"  asked 
Mrs.  Hayn.  "I've  seen  no  end  of  trouble  made 
between  young  folks  by  gals  that's  old  enough  to 
know  their  own  minds  an'  smart  enough  to  use  'em." 

"  For  goodness'  sake,  Lou  Ann  !"  exclaimed  the  old 
farmer.  "  To  hear  you  talk,  anybody  would  s'pose 
I        n  17 


194  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

that  in  the  big  city  of  New  York,  where  over  a  million 
people  live  and  a  million  more  come  in  from  diff'rent 
places  every  week,  there  wasn't  any  young  man  for 
folks  to  get  interested  in  but  our  Phil.  Reelly,  old 
lady,  I'm  beginnin'  to  be  troubled  about  you ;  that 
sort  of  feelin'  that's  croppin'  out  all  the  time  in  you 
makes  me  afeard  that  you've  got  a  kind  o'  pride 
that's  got  to  have  a  fall,— a  pride  in  our  son,  settin' 
him  above  all  other  mortal  bein's,  so  far  as  any- 
thin's  concerned  that  can  make  a  young  man  in- 
terestin'." 

"  Well,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn,  after  apparently  thinking 
the  matter  over,  "  if  it's  so  I  reckon  it'll  have  to  stay 
so.  I  don't  b'lieve  there's  any  hope  of  forgiveness 
for  anythin'  if  heaven's  goin'  to  hold  an  old  woman 
to  account  for  seein'  all  the  good  there  is  in  her  first- 
born. I  hain't  been  down  to  York  myself,  but  some 
of  York's  young  sprigs  have  been  down  here,  one 
time  an'  another,  an'  if  they're  fair  samples  of  the 
hull  lot,  I  should  think  a  sight  of  our  Phil  would  be 
to  all  the  city  gals  like  the  shadder  of  a  great  rock  in 
a  weary  land." 

"Who's  a-droppin'  into  Scripture  now  ?"  asked  the 
old  farmer,  moving  to  where  he  could  look  his  wife 
full  in  the  face. 

"  Scripture  ai^pi't  a  bit  too  strong  to  use  freely  about 
our  Phil,— my  Phil,"  said  the  old  woman,  pushing 
her  spectacles  to  the  top  of  her  head  and  beginning 
to  walk  the  kitchen  floor.  "All  the  hopin',  an' 
fearin',  an'  waitin',  an'  nursin',  an'  teachin',  an' 
thinkin',  an'  pray  in',  that  that  boy  has  cost  comes 
hurryin'  into  my  mind  when  I  think  about  him.    If 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  195 

there's  anythin'  he  ought  to  be  an'  isn't,  I  don't  see 
whiit  it  is,  an'  I  can't  see  wliere  his  mother's  to  blame 
for  it.  Whatever  good  there  is  in  me  I've  tried  to  put 
into  liim,  an'  whatever  I  was  lackin'  in  I've  tried  to 
get  for  him  elsewhere.  You've  been  to  him  ev'rythin' 
a  father  should,  an'  he  never  could  have  got  along 
without  you.  You've  been  lots  to  him  that  I  never 
could  be,  he  bein'  a  boy,  an'  I  never  cease  thankin' 
heaven  for  it ;  but  whenever  my  mind  gets  on  a 
strain  about  him  I  kind  o'  get  us  mixed  up,  an'  feel 
as  if  'twas  me  instead  of  him  that  was  takin'  what- 
ever happened,  an'  the  longer  it  lasts  the  less  I  can 
think  of  him  any  other  way.    Tliere  !" 

The  old  farmer  rose  to  his  feet  while  this  speech 
w^as  under  way  ;  then  he  removed  his  hat,  which  he 
seldom  did  after  coming  into  the  house,  unless  re- 
minded. When  his  wife  concluded,  he  took  both  her 
hands  and  dropped  upon  his  knees;  he  had  often 
done  it  before, — years  before,  when  overcome  by  her 
young  beauty, — but  never  before  had  he  done  it  with 
so  much  of  reverence. 


CHAPTER    XXII. 

SEVERAL  GREEN-EYED  MONSTERS. 

As  the  season  hurried  toward  the  Christmas  holi* 
days,  there  came  to  Philip  Hayn  the  impression  that 
he  was  being  seen  so  much  in  public  with  Lucia, 
never  against  that  young  lady's  inclination,  that 
perhaps  some  people  were  believing  him  engaged  to 
her,  or  sure  to  be.  This  impression  became  more 
distinct  when  some  of  his  new  business-acquaint- 
ances rallied  or  complimented  him,  and  when  he 
occasionally  declined  an  invitation,  given  viva  voce, 
by  explaining  that  he  had  promised  to  escort  Miss 
Tramlay  somewhere  that  evening.  If  this  explana- 
tion were  made  to  a  lady,  as  was  usually  the  case,  a 
knowing  smile,  or  at  least  a  significant  look,  was 
almost  sure  to  follow :  it  began  to  seem  to  Phil  that 
the  faces  of  the  young  women  of  New  York  said  a 
great  deal  more  than  their  tongues,  and  said  it  in  a 
way  that  could  not  be  answered,  which  was  quite 
annoying.  If  he  was  to  seem  engaged,  he  would 
prefer  that  appearances  might  not  be  deceitful. 
Again  and  again  he  was  on  the  point  of  asking  the 
question  which  he  little  doubted  would  be  favorably 
answered,  but  he  always  restrained  himself  by  the 
reminder  that  he  was  only  a  clerk  on  a  salary  that 
could  not  support  a  wife,  bred  like  Lucia,  in  New 
196 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  197 

York,  and  that  villa  plots  at  Haynton  Bay  were  not 
selling  as  rapidly  as  they  should  if  he  were  to  become 
well-to-do  ;  indeed,  they  scarcely  were  selling  at  all. 
Who  could  be  expected  to  become  interested  in 
building-sites  on  the  sea-shore  when  even  in  the 
sheltered  streets  of  the  city  the  wind  was  piercing 
the  thickest  overcoats?  And  who  could  propose  to  a 
girl  while  another  man,  even  were  he  that  stick 
Marge,  was  offering  her  numerous  attentions,  all  of 
which  she  accepted  ? — confound  Marge  and  his  money ! 
That  Marge  also  was  jealous  was  inevitable.  Highly 
as  he  valued  himself,  he  knew  womankind  well 
enough  to  imagine  that  a  handsome  young  fellow 
just  past  his  majority  might  be  more  gratifying  to 
the  eye,  at  least,  than  a  man  who  had  reached— 
well,  who  had  not  mentioned  his  age  since  he  passed 
his  thirty-tifth  birthday.  He  had  in  his  favor  all  the 
prestige  of  a  good  record  in  society,  of  large  acquaint- 
ance and  aristocratic  extraction,  but  he  could  not 
blind  himself  to  the  fact  that  the  young  women  who 
were  most  estimable  did  not  greet  him  as  effusively 
and  confidentially  as  they  did  Phil.  His  hair  was 
provokiugly  thin  on  the  top  of  his  head,  and  farther 
back  there  was  a  tell-tale  spot  that  resembled  a  ton- 
sure ;  he  could  not  quickly  enter,  like  Phil,  into  the 
spirit  of  some  silly,  innocent  frolic,  and  although  he 
insisted  that  his  horses  were  as  good  as  Phil's,  he 
could  not  bring  himself  to  extending  an  invitation 
for  a  morning  dash  through  the  Park,  as  Phil  did 
once  or  twice  a  week.  So  he  frequently  said  to  him- 
self, Confound  the  country  habit  of  early  rising, 
which  his  rival  had  evidently  mastered. 
17* 


198  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

As  for  Lucia,  except  for  the  few  happy  hours  she 
spent  with  Phil,  and  the  rather  more  numerous  hours 
devoted  to  day-dreams  regarding  her  youtliful  swain, 
she  was  really  miserable  in  her  uncertain  condition. 
Other  girls  were  getting  engaged,  on  shorter  acquaint- 
ance, and  ten  times  as  many  girls  were  tormenting 
her  with  questions  as  to  which  of  the  two  was  to  be 
the  happy  man.  She  devoutly  wished  that  Phil 
would  speak  quickly,  and  jBnally,  after  a  long  and 
serious  consultation  with  Margie,  she  determined  to 
adopt  toward  Phil  the  tactics  which  only  two  or 
three  months  before  she  had  tried  on  Marge :  she 
would  encourage  his  rival.  With  Marge  it  had 
had  the  unexpected  effect  of  making  her  yield  her 
heart  to  Phil ;  on  the  other  hand,  it  had  perceptibly 
quickened  Marge's  interest  in  her :  would  not  a 
reversal  of  the  factors  have  a  corresponding  result  ? 

She  had  but  one  fear,  but  that  was  growing  intense. 
Agnes  Dinon  continued  to  be  fond  of  Phil ;  there 
was  no  other  man  to  whom  she  ever  saw  Agnes  ap- 
pear so  cheerful  and  unconstrained.  Could  it  be  that 
the  heiress  was  playing  a  deep  game  for  the  prize 
that  to  Lucia  seemed  the  only  one  in  view?  She 
had  seen  wonderful  successes  made  by  girls  as  old  as 
Agnes,  when  they  had  any  money  as  a  reserve  force, 
and  she  trembled  as  she  thought  of  the  possibilities. 
Agnes  was  old,— dreadfully  old,— it  seemed  to  Lucia, 
but  she  was  undeniably  handsome,  her  manners  were 
charming,  and  she  was  smart  beyond  compare.  She 
had  declared  that  her  interest  in  Phil  was  only  in 
his  position  as  Lucia's  admirer  ;  but — people  did  not 
always  tell  the  truth  when  they  were  in  love.    Lucia 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  199 

herself  had  told  a  number  of  lies— the  very  whitest 
of  white  lies — about  her  own  regard  for  Phil :  suppose 

Agnes  were  doing  likewise  ?   If  she  were Lucia's 

little  flnger-nails  made  deep  prints  on  the  palms  of 
her  hands  as  she  thought  of  it. 

She  told  herself,  in  her  calmer  moments,  that  such 
a  thought  was  unworthy  of  her  and  insulting  to. 
Agnes,  who  really  had  been  friendly  and  even  affec- 
tionate to  her.  In  wakeful  hours  at  night,  however, 
or  in  some  idle  hours  during  the  day,  she  fell  into 
jealousy,  and  each  successive  tumble  made  her  thral- 
dom the  more  hopeless.  She  tried  to  escape  by 
rallying  Phil  about  Agnes,  but  the  young  man,  sup- 
posing her  to  be  merely  playful  in  her  teasing,  did 
his  best  to  continue  the  joke,  and  was  utterly  blind 
to  the  results. 

At  last  there  came  an  explosion.  At  a  party  which 
was  to  Lucia  unspeakably  stupid,  there  being  no 
dancing,  Miss  Dinon  monopolized  Phil  for  a  full 
hour, — a  thousand  hours,  it  seemed  to  Lucia, — and 
they  sat  on  a  sofa,  too,  that  was  far  retired,  in  an  end 
of  a  room  which  once  had  been  a  conservatory. 
Lucia  watched  for  an  opportunity  to  demand  an 
explanation :  it  seemed  it  never  would  come,  but 
finally  an  old  lady  who  was  the  head  and  front  of  a 
small  local  missionary  effort  in  the  South  called  the 
young  man  aside.  In  an  instant  Lucia  seated  herself 
beside  Agnes  Dinon,  saying,  as  she  gave  her  fan  a 
vicious  twitch,— 

"You  seem  to  find  Mr.  Hayn  very  entertaining?" 

"  Indeed  I  do,"  said  Miss  Dinon,  *'  I  haven't  spent 
so  pleasant  an  hour  this  season,  until  this  evening." 


200  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"Oh  !"  exclaimed  Lucia,  and  the  unoffending  fan 
flew  into  two  pieces. 

"  My  dear  girl !"  exclaimed  Agnes,  picking  up  one  of 
the  fragments.    "  It's  really  wicked  to  be  so  careless." 

''Thank  you,"  said  Lucia,  with  a  grand  air— for  so 
small  a  woman.  *'  I  thought  it  was  about  time  for 
an  apology." 

Miss  Dinon  looked  sidewise  in  amazement. 

"The  subject  of  conversation  must  have  been 
delightful,"  Lucia  continued. 

"  Indeed  it  was,"  said  Agnes. 

Lucia  looked  up  quickly.  Fortunately  for  Miss 
Dinon,  the  artificial  light  about  them  was  dim. 

"You  told  me  once,"  said  Lucia,  collecting  her 
strength  for  a  grand  effort,  "  that " 

"Yes?" 

"That— that " 

"You  dear  little  thing,"  said  Agnes,  suddenly  put^- 
ting  her  arm  about  Lucia  and  pressing  her  closely  as 
a  mother  might  seize  a  baby,  "  what  we  were  talking 
of  was  you.  Can't  you  understand,  now,  why  I  en- 
joyed it  so  much?" 

There  was  a  tremor  and  a  convulsive  movement 
within  the  older  woman's  arm,  and  Lucia  seemed  to 
be  crying. 

"Darling  little  girl,"  murmured  Agnes,  kissing 
the  top  of  Lucia's  head;  "I  ought  to  be  killed  for 
teasing  you,  even  for  a  moment,  but  how  could  you 
be  jealous  of  me  ?  Your  lover  has  been  a  great  deal 
more  appreciative  :  he  has  done  me  the  honor  to 
make  me  his  confidante,  and  again  I  say  it  was 
delightful." 


COUNTRY  LUVK.  201 

"I'm  awfully  mean,"  sobbed  Lucia. 

* '  Stop  crying — at  once, "  whispered  Agnes.  *  *  How 
will  your  eyes  look  ?  Oh,  Lu,  what  a  lucky  girl  you 
are !" 

"For  crying?"  said  Lucia,  after  a  little  choke. 

'*  For  having  sucli  a  man  to  adore  you.  Why,  he 
thinks  no  sucli  woman  ever  walked  the  earth  before. 
He  worships  the  floor  you  tread,  the  air  you  breatlie, 
the  rustle  of  your  dress,  the  bend  of  your  little  finger, 
the " 

The  Ust  of  adorable  qualities  might  have  been  pro- 
longed had  not  a  little  arm  suddenly  encircled  Miss 
Dinon's  waist  so  tightly  that  further  utterance  was 
suspended.    Then  Lucia  murmured, — 

"The  silly  fellow !  I'm  not  half  good  enough  for 
him." 

"Do  you  really  think  so?" 

"  Indeed  I  do  ;  I  do,  really." 

"  I'm  so  glad  to  hear  you  say  so,"  said  the  older  girl, 
"for,  honestly,  Lu,  Mr.  Hayn  has  so  much  head  and 
heart  that  he  deserves  the  best  woman  alive." 

"  It's  such  a  comfort  to  be  told  so  !"  murmured  the 
younger  girl. 

*'  One  would  suppose  you  had  doubted  it,  and  needed 
to  be  assured,"  said  Agnes,  with  a  quizzical  smile. 

**  Oh,  no !  'twasn't  that,"  said  Lucia,  hurriedly. 

"How  could  you  think  of  such  a  thing?     But 

Oh,  Agnes,  you  can't  understand,  not  having  been 
in  love  yourself." 

Miss  Dinon  looked  grave  for  an  instant,  but  was 
quickly  herself  again,  and  replied,  with  a  laugh,  and 
a  pinch  bestowed  ux^on  the  tip  of  Lucia's  little  ear, — 


202  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"  True  ;  true.  What  depths  of  ignorance  we  poor 
old  maids  are  obliged  to  grope  in  !" 

''Now,  Agnes!"  pleaded  Lucia.  "You  know  I 
didn't  mean  to  be  offensive.    All  I  meant  was  that 

you — that  I Oh,  I  think  he's  all  goodness  and 

sense  and  brightness  and  everything  that's  nice, 
but — and  so,  I  mean,  I  like  to  hear  about  it  from 
everybody.  I  want  to  hear  him  talked  of  all  the 
while  ;  and  you  won't  think  me  silly  for  it,  will  you  ? 
Because  he  really  deserves  it.  I  don't  believe  there's 
his  equal  on  the  face  of  the  earth  !" 

**  I've  heard  other  girls  talk  that  way  about  their 
lovers,"  said  Agnes,  "  and  I've  been  obliged  to  hope 
their  eyes  might  never  be  opened ;  but  about  the 
young  man  who  is  so  fond  of  you  I  don't  differ  with 
you  in  the  least.  He  ought  to  marry  the  very  best 
woman  alive." 

"Don't  say  that,  or  I  shall  become  jealous  again. 
He  ought  to  find  some  one  like  you ;  while  I'm 
nothing  in  the  world  but  a  well-meaning  little  goose." 

"  The  daughter  of  your  parents  can't  be  anything 
so  dreadful,  even  if  she  tries ;  and  all  young  girls  seem 
to  try,  you  know.  But  you  really  aren't  going  to  be 
satisfied  to  marry  Philip  Hayn  and  be  nothing  but  a 
plaything  and  a  pretty  little  tease  to  him,  are  you  ? 
It's  so  easy  to  stop  at  that ;  so  many  girls  whom  I 
know  have  ceased  to  grow  or  improve  in  any  way 
after  marriage.  They've  been  so  anxious  to  be  cun- 
ning little  things  that  they've  never  become  even 
women.  It  makes  one  almost  able  to  forgive  the 
ancients  for  polygamy,  to  see " 

"  Agnes  Dinon  !    How  can  you  be  so  dreadful?" 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  203 

"To  see  wives  go  on  year  after  year,  persisting  in 
being  as  childish  as  before  they  were  married,  wliile 
their  husbands  are  acquiring  better  sense  and  taste 
every  year." 

Lucia  was  sober  and  silent  for  a  moment ;  then  she 
said, — 

*'  Do  you  know,  Agnes,— I  wouldn't  dare  to  say  it  to 
any  other  girl,^-do  you  know  there  are  times  when 
I'm  positively  afraid  of  Phil?  He  does  know  so 
much.  I  find  him  delightful  company, — stop  smiling 
in  that  astonished  way,  you  dear  old  hypocrite  ! — I 
mean  I  find  him  delightful  company  even  when  he's 
talking  to  me  about  things  I  never  was  much  inter- 
ested in.  And  what  else  is  there  for  him  to  tallv  about  ? 
He's  never  proposed,  you  know,  and,  though  I  can't 
help  seeing  he  is  very  fond  of  me,  he  doesn't  even 
talk  about  love.  But  it  is  when  he  and  papa  get  to- 
gether and  talk  about  what  is  going  on  in  the  world 
that  I  get  frightened  ;  for  he  does  know  so  much.  It 
isn't  only  I  that  think  so,  you  know  :  papa  himself 
says  so  :  he  says  he  finds  it  pays  better  to  chat  with 
Phil  than  to  read  the  newspapers.  Now,  you  know, 
the  idea  of  marrying  a— a  sort  of  condensed  news- 
paper would  be  just  too  dreadful." 

"Husbands  who  love  their  wives  are  not  likely  to 
be  condensed  newspapers,— not  while  they  are  at 
home  :  but  do  train  yourself  to  be  able  to  talk  to  your 
husband  of  something  besides  the  petty  affairs  of  all 
of  your  mutual  acquaintances.  I  have  met  some 
persons  of  the  masculine  persuasion  who  were  so 
redolent  of  the  affairs  of  the  day  as  to  be  dreadful 
bores :  if  they  wearied  me  in  half  an  hour,  what  must 


204  CO  UNTRY^  L  UCK. 

their  poor  wives  endure?  But  don't  imagine  that 
men  are  the  only  sinners  in  this  respect.  There  isn't 
in  existence  a  more  detestable,  unendurable,  con- 
densed newspaper — thank  you  for  the  expression— 
than  the  young  wife  who  in  calling  and  receiving 
calls  absorbs  all  the  small  gossip  and  scandal  of  a 
large  circle,  and  unloads  it  at  night  upon  a  husband 
who  is  too  courteous  to  protest  and  too  loyal,  or 
perhaps  merely  too  weary,  to  run  away.  I  don't 
wonder  that  a  great  many  married  men  frequently 
spend  evenings  at  the  clubs :  even  the  Southern 
slaves  used  to  have  two  half-holidays  a  week,  besides 
Sunday." 

"  Agnes  Dinon  !  To  hear  you  talk,  one  would  sup- 
pose you  were  going  to  cut  off  your  hair  and  write 
dreadful  novels  under  a  mannish  name." 
*  **  On  the  contrary,  I'm  very  proud  of  my  long  hair 
and  of  everything  else  womanly,  especially  in  sweet 
girls  who  are  in  love.  As  for  writing  novels,  I'm 
afraid,  from  the  way  I've  been  going  on  for  the  past 
few  moments,  that  sermonizing,  or  perhaps  lecturing, 
would  be  more  in  the  line  of  my  gifts.  And  the 
company  are  going  down  to  the  dining-room :  there's 
a  march  playing,  and  I  see  Phil  struggling  toward 
you.  You're  a  dear  little  thing  to  listen  to  me  so 
patiently,  but  you'll  be  dearer  yet  if  you'll  remember 
all  I've  said.  You're  going  to  have  a  noble  husband  ; 
do  prepare  yourself  to  be  his  companion  and  equal, 
so  he  may  never  tire  of  you.  Hosts  of  husbands 
weary  of  wives  who  are  nothing  but  sweet.  Even 
girls  can't  exist  on  candy  alone,  you  know." 


CHAPTER   XXIII. 

E.  &  W. 

When  iron  looked  up,  as  recorded  elsewhere  in 
this  narrative,  there  was  at  the  same  time  much 
looking  up  done  or  attempted  by  various  railroad- 
companies.  To  some  of  them  the  improved  pros- 
pects of  iron  were  due ;  others  were  merely  hopeful 
and  venturesome ;  but  that  portion  of  the  general 
public  which  regards  a  railroad  only  as  a  basis  for 
the  issue  of  stock  in  which  men  can  speculate  did 
not  distinguish  between  the  two. 

Like  iron  and  railroads,  stocks  also  began  to  look 
up,  and  Mr.  Marge  devoted  himself  more  closely  than 
ever  to  the  quotations  which  followed  each  other 
moment  by  moment  on  the  tape  of  the  stock-ticker. 
It  seemed  never  safe  for  him  to  be  out  of  hearing  of 
the  instrument,  for  figures  changed  so  suddenly  and 
unexpectedly ;  shares  in  some  solid  old  roads  about 
which  everybody  knew  everything  remained  at  their 
old  figures,  while  some  concerns  that  had  only  just 
been  introduced  in  Wall  Street,  and  were  as  problem- 
atic as  new  acquaintances  in  general,  figured  largely 
in  the  daily  reports  of  Stock  Exchange  transactions. 

Mr.  Marge  remembered  previous  occasions  of  simihir 
character:  during  the  first  of  them  he  had  been  a 
"lamb,"  and  was  sheared  so  closely  and  rudely  that 
18  205 


206  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

he  afterward  took  great  interest  in  the  shearing  pro- 
cess, perhaps  to  improve  and  reform  it.  He  was  not 
at  all  misled  by  the  operations  on  the  street  at  the 
period  with  which  this  story  concerns  itself ;  he  knew 
that  some  of  the  new  securities  were  selling  for  more 
than  they  were  worth,  that  the  prices  of  others,  and 
the  great  volume  of  transactions  in  them,  were  made 
wholly  by  brokers  whose  business  it  was  to  keep 
them  before  the  people.  Others,  which  seemed 
promising,  could  fulfil  their  hopes  only  on  certain 
contingencies. 

Yet  Marge,  cool  and  prudent  though  he  was,  took 
no  interest  whatever  in  "securities"  that  deserved 
their  name  ;  he  devoted  all  his  attention  to  such 
stocks  as  fluctuated  wildly,— stocks  about  which  con- 
flicting rumors,  both  good  and  bad,  came  day  by  day, 
sometimes  hour  by  hour.  He  did  not  hesitate  to  in- 
form himself  that  he  was  simply  a  gambler,  at  the 
only  gentlemanly  game  which  the  law  did  not  make 
disreputable,  and  that  the  place  for  his  wits  and 
money  was  among  the  stocks  which  most  indulged 
in  "quick  turns"  and  to  which  the  outside  public— 
the  great  flock  of  lambs — would  be  most  attracted. 

After  a  careful  survey  of  the  market,  and  several 
chats,  apparently  by  chance,  with  alleged  author- 
ities of  the  street,  he  determined  to  confine  his 
operations  to  the  stock  of  "  The  Eastern  and  Western 
Consolidated  Railway  Company,"  better  known  on 
the  street  and  the  stock-tickers'  tapes  as  "E.  &  W." 
This  stock  had  every  feature  that  could  make  any 
alleged  security  attractive  to  operators,  for  there  Wiis 
a  great  deal  of  it,  the  company  was  formed  by  the 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  207 

consolidation,  under  the  guise  of  leasing,  of  the 
property  of  several  other  companies,  it  was  steadily 
picking  up  small  feeders  and  incorporating  them 
with  the  main  line,  it  held  some  land-grants  of  pos- 
sible value,  and,  lastly,  some  of  the  managers  were  so 
brilliant,  daring,  and  unscrupulous  that  startling 
changes  in  the  quotations  might  occur  at  any  time 
at  very  short  notice.  Could  a  gambler  ask  for  a  more 
promising  game? 

E.  &  W.  soon  began  to  justify  Marge  in  his  choice. 
For  the  first  few  days  after  he  ventured  into  it  the 
stock  crept  up  by  fractions  and  points  so  that  by 
selling  out  and  promptly  re-purchasing  Marge  was 
able  to  double  his  investment,  "on  a  margin,"  from 
his  profits  alone.  A  temporary  break  frightened  him 
a  little,  but  on  a  rumor  that  the  company  was  ob- 
taining a  lease  of  an  important  connecting  link  he 
borrowed  enough  money  to  buy  more  instead  of  sell- 
ing, and  as — for  a  wonder— the  rumor  proved  trtie,  he 
"  realized"  enough  to  take  a  couple  of  hundred  shares 
more.  Success  began  to  manifest  itself  in  his  counte- 
nance and  his  manner,  and  to  his  great  satisfaction 
lie  once  heard  his  name  coupled  with  that  of  one  of 
the  prominent  operators  in  the  stock. 

His  success  had  also  the  effect  of  making  his  plans 
more  expansive  and  aspiring.  Should  E.  &  W.  go  on 
as  it  was  going,  he  must  within  half  a  year  become 
quite  well  off,— almost  rich,  in  fact.  Such  being  the 
case,  might  it  not  be  a  mistake  for  him  to  attach  as 
much  importance  as  he  had  done  to  the  iron-business 
and  its  possible  effect  upon  the  dower  of  Miss  Tram- 
lay  ?    She  was  a  charming  girl,  but  money  ought  to 


208  COUNTRY  LUCK, 

marry  money,  and  what  would  be  a  share  of  the 
forty  or  fifty  thousand  a  year  that  Tramlay  might 
make  in  a  business  which,  after  all,  could  have  but 
the  small  margin  of  profit  which  active  competition 
would  allow  ?  There  were  rich  families  toward  whose 
daughters  he  had  not  previously  dared  to  raise  his 
eyes,  for  their  heads  would  have  demanded  a  fuller 
financial  exhibit  than  he  cared  to  make  on  the  basis 
of  the  few  thousands  of  dollars  which  he  had  invested 
in  profitable .  tenement-house  property.  As  a  large 
holder  of  E.  &  W.  his  position  would  be  different ; 
for  were  not  the  heads  of  these  various  families  oper- 
ating in  E.  &  W.  themselves  ? 

Little  by  little  he  lessened  his  attentions  to  Lucia, 
and  his  visits  to  the  house  became  fewer.  To  Phil, 
who  did  not  know  the  cause,  the  result  was  quickly 
visible,  and  delightful  as  well.  The  only  disquieting 
effect  was  that  Mrs.  Tramlay's  manner  perceptibly 
changed  to  an  undesirable  degree.  That  prudent 
lady  continued  to  inform  her  husband  that  there 
seemed  to  be  no  movement  in  Haynton  Bay  villa 
plots,  and  that  the  persistency  of  the  young  man 
from  the  country  seemed  to  have  the  eflfect  of  dis- 
couraging Mr.  Marge,  who  really  had  some  financial 
standing. 

The  change  in  Marge's  manner  was  perceptible 
throughout  the  Tramlay  family.  Even  Margie  ex- 
perienced a  sense  of  relief,  and  she  said  one  evening 
to  Lucia, — 

**  Isn't  it  lovely  that  your  old  beau  is  so  busy  in 
Wall  Street  nowadays?  He  doesn't  come  here  half 
as  much  as  he  used  to,  and  I  don't  have  to  be  bored 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  209 

by  him  while  you're  talking  to  Phil.  You  ought  to 
tit  up  a  room  especially  for  me  in  your  new  house,  Lu, 
for  I've  endured  a  dreadful  lot  for  your  sake." 

"  You  silly  child,"  Lucia  replied,  "  you  might  catch 
Mr.  Marge  yourself,  if  you  liked.  Mamma  seems  to 
want  to  have  him  in  the  family." 

*'  Thank  you  for  the  *  if,'  "  Margie  retorted,  **  but  I 
don't  care  for  a  husband  almost  old  enough  to  be  my 
grandfather,  after  being  accustonoied  to  seeing  a  real 
nice,  handsome  young  man  about  the  house." 

"He  has  money,"  said  Lucia,  "and  that  is  what 
most  girls  are  dying  to  marry.  Papa  says  he  is 
making  a  fortune  if  he  is  as  deep  in  the  market  as 
some  folks  say." 

" I  hope  he  is,"  said  Margie.  "He  ought  to  have 
something  besides  a  wooden  face,  and  a  bald  head, 
and  the  same  set  of  speeches  and  manners  for  all 
occasions.  What  a  splendid  sphinx  he  would  make, 
or  an  old  monument !  Maybe  he  isn't  quite  antique 
enough,  but  for  vivacity  he  isn't  any  more  remarka- 
ble than  a  stone  statue.  Just  think  of  what  Phil  has 
saved  us  from !" 

And  still  E.  &,  W.  went  up.  The  discovery  of  valu- 
able mineral  deposits  on  the  line  of  one  of  its  branches 
sent  the  stock  flying  up  several  points  in  a  single  day, 
and  soon  afterward  a  diversion  of  some  large  grain- 
shipments  from  a  parallel  line  helped  it  still  further. 
That  the  grain  was  carried  at  a  loss  did  not  trouble 
any  one, — probably  because  only  the  directors  knew 
it,  and  it  was  not  their  business  to  make  such  facts 
public.  And  with  each  rise  of  the  stock  Marge  sold  out, 
so  as  to  have  a  larger  margin  with  which  to  operate, 
o  18* 


210  COUNTRY  LUCK, 

At  the  first  of  the  year  E.  &  W.  declared  a  dividend 
so  large,  for  a  security  that  had  been  far  below  par, 
that  even  prudent  investors  began  to  crowd  to  the 
street  and  buy  the  stock  to  put  into  their  safes.  The 
effect  of  this  was  to  send  shares  up  so  rapidly  and 
steadily  that  Marge  had  diflSculty  in  repurchasing  at 
the  price  at  which  he  sold  ;  but  he  did  so  well  that 
more  than  six  thousand  shares  now  stood  in  his  name 
on  the  books  of  his  broker.  Six  thousand  shares 
represented  about  half  a  million  dollars,  at  the  price 
which  E.  &  W.  commanded.  Marge  admitted  to  him- 
self that  it  did  not  mean  so  much  to  him,  for  he  had 
not  a  single  certificate  in  his  pocket  or  anywhere  else. 
But  what  were  stock  certificates  to  a  man  who  oper- 
ated on  a  margin?  They  were  good  enough  for 
widows  and  orplians  and  other  people  incapable  or 
unwilling  to  watch  the  market  and  who  were  satisfied 
to  draw  annually  whatever  dividends  might  chance 
to  be  declared.  To  Marge  the  stock  as  it  appeared 
on  his  broker's  books  signified  that  he  had  cleared 
nearly  fifty  thousand  dollars  on  it  within  two  months ; 
and  all  this  money  was  reinvested — on  margin — in 
the  same  stock,  with  the  probability  of  doubling  it- 
self every  month  until  E.  &  W.  should  go  quite  a 
way  beyond  par.  Were  it  to  creep  up  only  five  per 
cent,  a  month— it  had  been  doing  more  than  twice  as 
well — he  could  figure  up  a  cool  million  of  gain  before 
the  summer  dulness  should  strike  the  market.  Then 
he  would  sell  out,  run  over  to  Europe,  and  take  a  rest : 
he  felt  that  he  would  have  earned  it  by  that  time. 

Of  course  there  was  no  danger  that  E.  &  W.  would 
go  down.    Smart,  who,  in  the  parlance  of  the  street, 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  211 

was  "taking  care  of  it,"  had  publicly  said,  again  and 
agiiin,  that  E.  &  W.  would  reach  one  hundred  and 
fifty  before  summer ;  and,  although  Smart  was  one 
of  the  younger  men  in  the  street,  he  had  engineered 
two  or  three  other  things  in  a  manner  which  had 
made  older  operators  open  their  eyes  and  check- 
books. Smart's  very  name  seemed  to  breed  luck,  his 
prophecies  about  other  movements  had  been  fulfilled, 
he  evidently  had  his  own  fortune  largely  invested 
in  E.  &  W.,  so  what  more  could  any  operator  ask? 
Even  now  the  stock  was  hard  to  get ;  investors  who 
wanted  small  quantities  had  generally  to  bid  above 
the  market-quotations ;  and  even  when  a  large  block 
changed  hands  it  depressed  quotations  only  a  fraction, 
which  would  be  more  than  recovered  within  twenty- 
four  hours.  Marge's  margin  was  large  enough  to 
protect  him  against  loss,  even  should  a  temporary 
panic  strike  the  market  and  depress  everything  by 
eyinpathy:  indeed,  some  conservative  brokers  told 
Marge  that  he  could  safely  carry  the  stock  on  a  much 
smaller  margin. 

Better  men  have  had  their  heads  turned  by  less 
success,  and  forgotten  not  only  tender  sentiments  but 
tender  vows :  so  it  is  no  wonder  that,  as  his  financial 
standing  improved  daily.  Marge's  interest  in  Lucia 
weakened.  The  countryman  might  have  her ;  there 
was  as  good  fish  in  the  sea  as  that  he  had  hoped  to 
catch,— not  only  as  good,  but  a  great  deal  better.  He 
would  not  break  old  friendships,  he  really  esteemed 
the  Tramlays,  but— friendship  was  a  near  enough 
relationship. 


CHAPTER   XXIV. 

IKON  LOOKS  STILIi  HIGHER. 

"Well,  my  dear,"  said  Tramlay  to  his  wife  one 
evening  in  late  winter,  **  the  spell  is  broken.  Three 
different  people  have  bought  building-sites  of  the 
Haynton  Bay  Company,  and  a  number  of  others 
seem  interested.  There's  been  a  good  deal  of  money 
made  this  winter,  and  now  people  seem  anxious  to 
spend  it.  It's  about  time  for  us  to  be  considering 
plans  for  our  villa, — eh  ?" 

"Not  until  we  are  sure  we  shall  have  more  than 
three  neighbors,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay.  "Besides,  I 
would  first  like  to  have  some  certainty  as  to  how 
large  our  family  will  be  this  summer." 

" How  large?  Why,  the  same  size  as  usual,  I  sup- 
pose.   Why  shouldn't  it  be?" 

"Edgar,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  impatiently,  "for  a 
man  who  has  a  business  reputation  for  quick  wits, 
I  think  you're  in  some  things  the  stupidest  person 
who  ever  drew  breath." 

Tramlay  seemed  puzzled.  His  wife  finally  came 
to  his  aid,  and  continued: 

"I  should  like  to  know  if  Lucia's  affair  is  to 
dawdle  along  as  it  has  been  doing.  June  is  as  late 
in  the  season  as  is  fashionable  for  weddings,  and  an 

engagement " 

212 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  213 

"Oh!"  interrupted  the  merchant,  with  a  gesture 
of  annoyance,  "I've  heard  tlie  customary  talk  about 
mother-love,  and  believed  it,  up  to  date,  but  I  can't 
possibly  bring  myself  to  be  as  anxious  as  you  to  get 
rid  of  our  blessed  first-born." 

"It  is  because  I  love  her  that  I  am  so  desirous 
of  seeing  her  happy  and  settled, — ^not  to  get  rid  of 
her." 

"Yes,  I  suppose  so;  and  I'm  a  brute,"  said  the 
husband.  "Well,  if  Phil  has  been  waiting  until  he 
should  be  certain  about  his  own  condition  financially, 
he  will  not  need  to  wait  much  longer.  I  don't  know 
whether  it's  through  brains,  or  tact,  or  what's  called 
lover's  luck,  but  he's  been  doing  so  well  among  rail- 
road-people that  in  common  decency  I  must  either 
raise  his  salary  largely  or  give  him  an  interest  in  the 
business." 

"Well,  really,  you  speak  as  if  the  business  de- 
pended upon  him." 

"For  a  month  or  two  he's  been  taking  all  the 
orders  ;  I've  been  simply  a  sort  of  clerk,  to  distribute 
them  among  mills,  or  find  out  where  iron  could  be 
had  for  those  who  wanted  it  in  haste.  He's  after  an 
order  now— from  the  Lake  and  Gulfside  Road — that 
I  let  him  attempt  at  first  merely  to  keep  him  from 
growing  conceited.  It  seemed  too  great  and  difficult 
a  job  to  place  any  hope  on ;  but  I  am  beginning  to 
half  believe  he'll  succeed.  If  he  does,  I'll  simply  be 
compelled  to  give  him  an  interest  in  the  business :  if 
I  don't,  some  of  my  competitors  will  coax  him  away 
from  me." 

"  What  I  after  all  you  have  done  for  him  ?" 


214  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"  Tut !  tut !  the  favor  is  entirely  on  the  other  side. 
Had  some  outsider  brought  me  the  orders  which 
that  boy  has  taken,  I  would  have  had  to  pay  twenty 
times  as  much  in  commissions  as  Phil's  salary  has 
amounted  to.  What  do  you  think  of  *  Edgar  Tram- 
lay  &  Co.'  for  a  business  sign,  or  even  *  Tramlay  & 
Hayn'  ?" 

*'  I  suppose  it  will  have  to  be,"  said  the  lady,  with- 
out any  indication  of  gratification,  "and,  if  it  must 
be,  the  sooner  the  better,  for  it  can't  help  making 
Lucia's  position  more  certain.  If  it  doesn't  do  so  at 
once,  I  shall  believe  it  my  duty  to  speak  to  the  young 
man." 

''Don't!  don't,  I  implore!"  exclaimed  the  mer- 
chant.   "  He  will  think " 

"What  he  may  think  is  of  no  consequence,"  said 
Mrs.  Tramlay.  "It  is  time  that  lie  should  know 
what  city  etiquette  demands." 

"But  it  isn't  necessary,  is  it,  that  he  should  know 
how  matter-of-fact  and  cold-hearted  we  city  people 
can  be  about  matters  which  country-people  think 
should  be  approached  with  the  utmost  heart  and 
delicacy?  Don't  let  him  know  what  a  mercenary, 
self-serving  lot  of  wretches  we  are,  until  he  is  so 
fixed  that  he  can't  run  away." 

"Edgar,  the  subject  is  not  one  to  be  joked  about, 
I  assure  you." 

"And  I  assure  you,  my  dear,  that  I'm  not  more 
than  half  joking,— not  a  bit  more." 

"  I  shall  not  say  more  than  thousands  of  the  most 
loving  and  discreet  mothers  have  been  obliged  to  say 
in  similar  circumstances,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay.    "If 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  215 

you  cannot  trust  me  to  discharge  this  duty  delicately, 
perhaps  you  will  have  the  kindness  to  undertake  it 
yourself." 

"  The  very  thing !"  said  Tramlay.  *'  If  he  must 
have  unpleasant  recollections  of  one  of  us,  I  would 
rather  it  wouldn't  be  his  mother-in-law.  The  weight 
of  precedent  is  against  you,  don't  you  know? — though 
not  through  any  fault  of  yours." 

**  Will  you  seriously  promise  to  speak  to  him?  At 
once?— this  very  week?" 

"  I  promise,"  said  Tramlay,  solemnly,  at  the  same 
time  wickedly  making  a  number  of  mental  reserva- 
tions. 

"Then  if  there  should  be  any  mistake  it  will  not 
be  too  late  to  recall  poor  Mr.  Marge,"  said  Mrs.  Tram- 
lay. 

"  My  dear  wife,"  said  Tramlay,  tenderly,  *'  I  know 
Marge  has  some  good  qualities,  but  I  beg  you  to  re- 
member that  by  the  time  our  daughter  ought  to  be 
in  the  very  prime  of  her  beauty  and  spirits,  unless 
her  health  fails,  Marge  will  be  nearly  seventy  years 
old.  I  can't  bear  the  thought  of  our  darling  being 
doomed  to  be  nurse  to  an  old  man  just  when  she  will 
be  most  fit  for  the  companionship  and  sympathy  of 
a  husband.  Suppose  that  ten  years  ago,  when  you 
boasted  you  didn't  feel  a  day  older  than  when  you 
were  twenty,  I  had  been  twenty  years  older  than  I 
am  now,  and  lianging  like  a  dead  weight  about  your 
neck?  Between  us  we  have  had  enough  to  do  in 
bringing  up  our  children  properly  :  what  would  you 
have  done  had  all  the  responsibility  come  upon  you 
alone?    And  you  certainly  don't  care  to  think  of  the 


216  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

probability  of  Lu  being  left  a  widow  before  she  fairly 
readies  middle  age?" 

**  Handsome  widows  frequently  marry  again,  es- 
pecially if  their  first  husbands  were  well  ofi*." 

''Wife!" 

Mrs.  Tramlay  looked  guilty,  and  avoided  her  hus- 
band's eye.  She  could  not  avoid  his  encircling  arm, 
though,  nor  the  meaning  of  his  voice  as  he  said, — 

*'  Is  there  no  God  but  society?" 

"I  didn't  mean  to,"  whispered  Mrs.  Tramlay. 
"All  mothers  are  looking  out  for  their  daughters ;  I 
don't  think  fathers  understand  how  necessary  it  is. 
If  you  had  shown  more  interest  in  Lucia's  future  I 
might  not  have  been  so  anxious.  Fathers  never  seem 
to  think  that  their  daughters  ought  to  have  husbands. ' ' 

"Fathers  don't  like  girls  to  marry  before  they  are 
women,"  said  Tramlay.  "Even  now  I  wish  Lu 
might  not  marry  until  she  is  several  years  older." 

"  Mercy  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tramlay.  "Would  you 
want  the  poor  child  to  go  through  several  more  years 
of  late  parties,  and  dancing,  and  dressing?  Why, 
she'd  become  desperate,  and  want  to  go  into  a  nun- 
nery or  become  a  novelist,  or  reformer,  or  something." 

"What?  Is  society  really  so  dreadful  to  a  young 
girl?"  asked  the  husband. 

"  It's  the  most  tiresome  thing  in  the  world  after  the 
novelty  wears  off,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  "unless  she 
is  fond  of  flirting,  or  gets  into  one  of  the  prosy  sets 
where  they  talk  about  nothing  but  books  and  music 
and  pictures  and  blue  china  and  such  things." 

" '  Live  and  learn,' "  quoted  the  merchant.  "  Next 
time  I  become  a  young  man  and  marry  I'll  bring  up 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  217 

my  family  in  the  country.  My  sisters  had  at  least 
horses  and  trees  and  birds  and  flowers  and  chickens 
to  amuse  them,  and  not  one  of  them  married  until 
she  was  twenty-five." 

Mrs.  Tramlay  maintained  a  discreet  silence,  for, 
except  their  admiration  for  their  brother,  Mrs.  Tram- 
lay  had  never  been  able  to  find  a  point  of  contact  in 
her  sisters-in-law.  Tramlay  slowly  left  the  room  and 
went  to  his  club,  informing  himself,  as  he  walked, 
that  there  were  times  in  which  a  man  really  needed 
the  society  of  men. 

Meanwhile,  Phil  had  for  the  twentieth  time  been 
closeted  with  the  purchasing  officials  of  the  Lake 
and  Gulfside  Railroad, — as  disagreeable  and  suspi- 
cious a  couple  as  he  had  ever  found  among  Haynton's 
assortment  of  expert  grumblers.  Had  he  been  more 
experienced  in  business  he  would  have  been  less  hope- 
ful, for,  as  everybody  who  was  anybody  in  the  iron 
trade  knew  the  Lake  and  Gulfside  had  planned  a 
branch  nearly  two  hundred  miles  long,  and  there 
would  be  forty  or  fifty  thousand  tons  of  rails  needed, 
everybody  who  was  anybody  in  the  iron  trade  was 
trying  to  secure  at  least  a  portion  of  the  order.  Phil's 
suggestion  that  Tramlay  should  try  to  secure  the  con- 
tract had  affected  the  merchant  about  as  a  proposition 
of  a  child  to  build  a  house  might  have  done  ;  but,  to 
avoid  depressing  the  young  man's  spirits,  he  had 
consented,  and  had  himself  gone  so  far  as  to  get  terms, 
for  portions  of  the  possible  order,  from  men  who  were 
looking  for  encouragement  to  open  their  long-closed 
mills.  Unknown  to  the  merchant,  and  fortunately 
for  Phil,  one  of  the  Lake  and  Gulfside  purchasing 
K  19 


218  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

agents  had  years  before  chanced  to  be  a  director  in  a 
company  that  placed  a  small  order  with  Tramlay,  and, 
remembering  and  liking  the  way  in  which  it  had  been 
filled,  was  predisposed  toward  the  house's  new  repre- 
sentative from  the  first.  But  Tramlay,  not  knowing 
this,  laid  everything  to  Phil's  luck  when  the  young 
man  invaded  the  whist-room  of  the  club,  called 
Tramlay  away  from  a  table  just  as  cards  had  been 
dealt,  and  exclaimed,  in  a  hoarse  whisper, — 

"I've  got  it!" 

"  Got  what?"  asked  the  merchant,  not  over-pleased 
at  the  interruption.  Phil  stared  so  wildly  that  his 
employer  continued,  "Not  the  smallpox,  I  trust. 
What  is  it?    Can't  you  speak?" 

"  I  should  think  you'd  know,"  said  the  young  man, 
looking  somewhat  aggrieved. 

"Not  Lake  and  Gulfside?" 

"Exactly  that,"  said  Phil,  removing  his  hat  and 
holding  it  just  as  he  remembered  to  have  seen  a  con- 
queror's hat  held  in  a  colored  print  of  "  General  Scott 
entering  the  City  of  Mexico." 

"Hurrah  !"  shouted  the  merchant,  dashing  to  the 
floor  the  cards  he  h^ld.  This  movement  eliciting  an 
angry  protest  from  the  table,  Tramlay  picked  up  the 
cards,  thrust  them  into  the  hand  of  a  lounger,  said, 
"  Play  my  hand  for  me. — Gentlemen,  I  must  beg  you 
to  excuse  me:  sudden  and  important  business," 
seized  his  hat,  and  hurried  Phil  to  the  street,  ex- 
claiming,— 

"Sure  there  is  no  mistake  about  it?  It  seems  too 
good  to  be  true." 

"There's  no  mistake  about    this,"  Phil  replied, 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  219 

taking  a  letter  from  his  pocket.  The  merchant  hur- 
ried to  the  nearest  street-lamp,  looked  at  the  written 
order,  and  said, — 

"My  boy,  your  fortune  is  made.  Do  you  realize 
wliat  a  great  stroke  of  business  this  is?" 

'*  I  hope  so,"  said  Phil. 

"What  do  you  want  me  to  do  for  you?  Name 
your  terms  or  figures." 

Phil  was  silent,  for  the  very  good  reason  that  he 
did  not  know  how  to  say  what  was  in  his  heart. 

"Suppose  I  alter  my  sign  to  Tramlay  &  Hayn, 
and  make  you  my  equal  partner?" 

Still  Phil  was  silent. 

"  Well,"  said  the  merchant,  "  it  seemed  to  me  that 
was  a  fair  offer ;  but  if  it  doesn't  meet  your  views, 
speak  out  and  say  what  you  prefer." 

"Mr.  Tramlay,"  said  the  young  man,  trying  to 
speak  calmly,  but  failing  most  lamentably,  "they 
say  a  countryman  never  is  satisfied  in  a  trade  unless 
he  gets  something  to  boot." 

"  Very  well.    What  shall  it  be  ?" 

"  Millions,— everything ;  that  is,  I  wish  youM  give 
me  your  daughter  too." 

The  merchant  laughed  softly  and  shook  his  head. 
Phil  started,  and  his  heart  fell. 

"I  don't  see  how  I  can  do  that,"  said  Tramlay; 
"for,  unless  my  eyes  deceive  me,  you  already  have 
her." 

"Thank  heaven !"  exclaimed  Phil,  devoutly. 

**  So  say  I,"  the  merchant  responded. 


CHAPTER    XXV. 

E.  &.  W.   AGAIN. 

One  of  the  penalties  of  success  (according  to  the 
successful)  being  the  malignant  envy  of  those  who 
have  not  succeeded,  it  is  not  surprising  that  in  time 
there  began  to  creep  into  Wall  Street  some  stories 
that  E.  &  W.  was  no  better  than  it  should  be,  nor 
even  quite  so  good,  and  that  there  was  no  reason  why 
the  stock  should  be  so  high  when  solider  securities 
were  selling  below  par. 

The  management,  assisted  by  the  entire  E.  &  W. 
clique,  laughed  all  such  "  bear"  stories  to  scorn,  and 
when  scorn  seemed  somewhat  insufficient  they  greatly 
increased  the  volume  of  sales  and  maintained  the 
price  by  the  familiar,  simple,  but  generally  success- 
ful expedient  of  buying  from  one  another  through 
many  different  brokers  in  the  stock-market.  The  bear 
party  rallied  within  a  day  or  two,  and  returned  to 
the  charge  with  an  entirely  new  set  of  lies,  besides 
an  accidental  truth  or  two ;  but  the  E.  &  W.  clique 
was  something  of  a  liar  itself,  and  arranged  for  simul- 
taneous delivery,  at  different  points  on  the  street,  of  a 
lot  of  stories  so  full  of  new  mineral  developments  on 
the  line  of  the  road,  and  so  many  new  evidences  of 
the  management's  shrewdness,  that  criticism  was 
silenced  for  a  while. 
220 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  221 

But  bears  must  live  as  well  as  bulls,  and  the  longer 
they  remain  hungry  the  harder  they  are  sure  to  fight 
for  their  prey  :  so  the  street  was  soon  favored  with  a 
fresh  assortment  of  rumors.  This  time  they  con- 
cerned themselves  principally  with  the  alleged  bad 
condition  of  the  track  and  rolling  stock  in  the  West, 
and  with  doubts  as  to  the  mineral  deposits  said  to 
have  been  discovered.  The  market  was  reminded 
that  other  railroad  companies,  by  scores,  had  made 
all  sorts  of  brilliant  discoveries  and  announcements 
that  had  failed  to  materialize,  and  that  some  of  these 
roads  had  been  managed  by  hands  that  now  seemed 
to  be  controlling  E.  &  W. 

Then  the  E.  &  W.  management  lost  its  ordinary 
temper  and  accused  the  bears  of  malignant  falsehood. 
There  was  nothing  unusual  in  this,  in  a  locality 
where  no  one  is  ever  suspected  of  telling  the  truth 
while  he  can  make  anything  by  lying.  When,  how- 
ever, E.  &  W.  issued  invitations  to  large  operators, 
particularly  in  the  company's  stock,  for  a  special  ex- 
cursion over  the  road,  with  opportunities  for  thorough 
investigation,  the  bears  growled  sullenly  and  began 
to  look  for  a  living  elsewhere. 

The  excursion-start  was  a  grand  success  in  the  eyes 
of  Mr.  Marge,  who  made  with  it  his  first  trip  in  the 
capacity  of  an  investigating  investor.  There  were 
men  on  the  train  to  whom  Marge  had  in  other  days 
scarcely  dared  to  lift  his  eyes  in  Wall  Street,  yet  now 
they  treated  him  as  an  equal,  not  only  socially  but 
financially.  He  saw  his  own  name  in  newspapers  of 
cities  through  which  the  party  passed ;  his  name  had 
ai^peared  in  print  before,  but  only  among  lists  of 
19* 


222  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

guests  at  parties,  or  as  usher  or  a  bridegroom's  best 
man  at  a  wedding, — not  as  a  financier.  It  was  grati- 
fying, too,  to  have  presented  to  liim  some  presidents 
of  Western  banks  who  joined  tlie  party,  and  be 
named  to  tliese  financiers  as  one  of  the  most  promi- 
nent investors  in  E.  &  W. 

He  saw  more,  too,  of  liis  own  country  than  ever 
before  ;  liis  eyes  and  wits  were  quick  enough  to  make 
him  enter  lieartily  into  the  spirit  of  a  new  enterprise 
or  two  wliich  some  of  the  E.  &  W.  directors  with  the 
party  were  projecting.  It  might  retard  a  little  his  ac- 
cumulation of  E.  &  W.  stock,  but  the  diflference  would 
be  in  his  favor  in  the  end.  To  "  get  in  on  the  ground- 
floor"  of  some  great  enterprise  had  been  his  darling 
idea  for  years ;  he  had  hoped  for  it  as  unwearyingly 
as  for  a  rich  wife ;  now  at  last  his  desire  was  to  be 
granted  :  the  rich  wife  would  be  easy  enough  to  find 
after  he  himself  became  rich.  Unaccustomed  though 
he  was  to  slumbering  with  a  jolting  bed  under  him, 
his  dreams  in  the  sleeping-car  were  rosier  than  auy 
he  had  known  since  the  hair  began  to  grow  thin  on 
the  top  of  his  head. 

But  as  the  party  began  to  look  through  the  car 
windows  for  the  bears  of  the  Eocky  Mountains,  the 
bears  of  Wall  Street  began  to  indulge  in  pernicious 
activity.  They  all  attacked  E.  &  W.  with  entirely 
new  lots  of  stories,  which  were  not  denied  rapidly 
enough  for  the  good  of  the  stock,  for  some  of  the 
more  active  managers  of  the  E.  &  W.  clique  were 
more  than  a  thousand  miles  away.  Dispatches  began 
to  hurry  Westward  for  new  and  bracing  information, 
but  the  whole  excursion-party  had  taken  stages,  a 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  223 

few  hours  before,  for  a  three  days'  trip  to  see  some 
of  the  rich  miniug-camps  to  which  E.  &  W.  had 
promised  to  build  ti  branch.  No  answers  being  re- 
ceived, E.  &  W.  began  to  droop  ;  as  soon  as  it  sliowed 
decided  signs  of  wealvuess,  and  seemed  to  have  no 
friends  strong  enough  to  support  it,  the  bears  sprang 
upon  it  en  masse  and  proceeded  to  pound  and  scratch 
the  life  out  of  it.  It  was  granted  a  temporary  breath- 
ing-spell through  the  assistance  of  some  operators  in 
other  stocks,  who  feared  their  own  properties  might 
be  depressed  by  sympathy,  but  as  soon  as  it  became 
evident  that  E.  &  W.  was  to  be  the  only  sufferer  all 
the  bulls  in  the  market  sheathed  their  horns  in  bears' 
claws  and  assisted  in  the  annihilation  of  the  prostrate 
giant  who  had  no  friends. 

The  excursion-party  returned  from  the  mines  in 
high  spirits  :  even  the  president  of  the  company  de- 
clared he  had  no  idea  that  the  property  was  so  rich. 
He  predicted,  and  called  all  present  to  remember  his 
words,  that  the  information  he  would  send  East 
would  '*  boom"  E.  &,  W.  at  least  ten  points  within 
ten  days.  Marge's  heart  simply  danced  within  him  : 
if  it  was  to  be  as  the  president  predicted,  his  own 
hoped-for  million  by  the  beginning  of  the  stagnant 
season  would  be  nearer  two.  He  smiled  pityingly  as 
Lucia's  face  rose  before  him  :  how  strange  that  he  had 
ever  thought  seriously  of  making  that  chit  his  wife, 
and  being  gratified  for  such  dowry  as  the  iron  trade 
might  allow  her  father  to  give  ! 

The  stages  stopped  at  a  mining-village,  twenty  miles 
from  the  station,  for  dinner.  The  president  said  to 
the  keeper  of  the  little  hotel,— 


224  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

**  Is  there  any  telegraph-station  here  ?" 

*'  There's  a  telephone  'cross  the  road  at  the  store," 
said  the  proprietor.  *'It  runs  into  the  bankin'-house 
at  Big  Stony." 

**  Big  Stony?"  echoed  the  president.  *^  Why,  we've 
done  some  business  with  that  bank.  Come,  gentle- 
men, let's  go  across  and  find  out  how  our  baby  is 
being  taken  care  of." 

Several  of  the  party  went.  Marge  being  among 
them.  The  president "  rang  up"  the  little  bank,  and 
bawled,— 

"  Got  any  New  York  quotations  to-day?" 

**  Yes,"  replied  a  thin,  far-away  voice. 

**  How's  the  stock  market  ?  " 

"Pretty  comfortable,  considering." 

*'  Any  figures  on  E.  &  W.  ?" 

"  El,"  was  the  only  sound  the  president  could  evolve 
from  the  noise  that  followed. 

"  Umph  !"  said  he  ;  '*  what  does  that  mean ?  '  El' 
must  be  '  twelve,' — hundred  and  twelve.  Still  rising, 
you  see ;  though  why  it  should  have  gone  so  high 
and  so  suddenly  I  don't  exactly  see.  Hello,"  he  re- 
sumed, as  he  turned  again  to  the  mouth-piece ;  *'  will 
you  give  me  those  figures  again,  and  not  quite  so 
loud  ?    I  can't  make  them  out." 

Again  the  message  came,  but  it  did  not  seem  any 
more  satisfactory,  for  the  president  looked  astonished, 
and  then  frowned  ;  then  he  shouted  back, — 

"There's  some  mistake  ;  you  didn't  get  the  right 
letters  :  I  said  E.  &  W., — Eastern  and  Western.  One 
moment.  Mr.  Marge,  won't  you  kindly  take  my 
place  ?    My  hearing  isn't  very  keen." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  225 

Marge  placed  the  receiver  to  his  ear,  and  shouted, 
"All  right ;  go  ahead."  In  two  or  three  seconds  he 
dropped  the  receiver,  turned  pale,  and  looked  as  if 
about  to  full. 

"What  is  it?"  asked  several  voices  in  chorus. 

"  He  said,  *  E.  &  W.  is  dead  as  a  smelt ;  knocked  to 
pieces  two  days  ago.'  " 

"What  is  it  quoted  at  now  ?"  asked  one,  quickly. 

True  enough  :  who  could  want  to  know  more  than 
Marge  ?  It  was  in  a  feeble  voice,  though,  and  after 
two  or  three  attempts  to  clear  his  throat,  that  he 
asked, — 

"  How  did  it  close  to-day  ?" 

Again,  as  the  answer  came  back.  Marge  dropped 
the  receiver  and  acted  as  if  about  to  fall. 

"What  is  it?    Speak,  can't  you?" 

"Thirty-seven !"  whispered  Marge. 

There  was  an  outburst  of  angry  exclamations,  not 
unmixed  with  profanity.  Tiien  nearly  all  present 
looked  at  the  president  inquiringly,  but  without  re- 
ceiving any  attempt  at  an  explanation,  for  the  presi- 
dent was  far  the  lieaviest  owner  of  E.  &  W.  stock, 
and  he  looked  as  stony  of  face  as  if  he  had  suddenly 
died  but  neglected  to  close  his  eyes. 

Marge  hastily  sought  the  outer  air ;  it  seemed  to 
him  he  would  lose  his  reason  if  he  did  not  get  away 
from  that  awful  telephone.  Thirty-seven  !  he  knew 
what  that  meant ;  his  margin  miglit  have  saved  his 
own  stock  had  the  drop  been  to  a  little  below  pur, 
but  it  had  tumbled  more  tlian  half  a  hundred  points, 
8o  of  course  his  brokers  had  closed  the  account  when 
the  margin  was  exhausted,  and  Marge,  who  a  forfe- 
it 


226  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

night  before  had  counted  himself  worth  nearly  a  mil- 
lion dollars  (Wall  Street  millions),  was  now  simply 
without  a  penu3'^  to  his  credit  in  Wall  Street  or 
anywhere  else ;  what  money  he  chanced  to  have  in 
his  pocket  was  all  he  could  hope  to  call  his  own  until 
the  first  of  the  next  month,  when  the  occupants  of 
his  tenement-houses  would  pay  their  rent. 

It  was  awful ;  it  was  unendurable ;  he  longed  to 
scream,  to  rave,  to  tear  his  hair.  He  mentally  cursed 
the  bears,  the  brokers,  the  directors,  and  every  one 
else  but  himself.  He  heard  some  of  his  companions 
in  the  store  bawhng  messages  through  the  telephone, 
to  be  wired  to  New  York  ;  these  were  veterans,  who 
assumed  from  past  experience  that  a  partial  recovery 
would  follow  and  that  they  would  partly  recoup  their 
losses.  But  what  could  he  do?  There  was  not  on 
earth  a  person  whom  he  could  ask,  by  telegraph,  for 
the  few  hundred  dollars  necessary  to  a  small  specula- 
tion on  the  ruins. 

He  heard  the  outburst  of  incredulity,  followed 
by  rage,  as  the  passengers  who  had  remained  at  the 
little  hotel  received  the  unexpected  news,  which  now 
seemed  to  him  to  be  days  old.  Then  he  began  to 
suspect  everybody,  even  the  crushed  president  and 
directors.  What  could  be  easier,  Marge  said  to  him- 
self, than  for  these  shrewd  fellows  to  unload  quietly 
before  they  left  New  York,  and  then  get  out  of  reach 
so  that  they  could  not  render  any  support  in  case 
of  a  break?  He  had  heard  of  such  things  before. 
It  certainly  was  suspicious  that  the  crash  should 
have  come  the  very  day  after  they  got  away  from  the 
telegraph-wires.    Likely  enough  they  now,  through 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  227 

their  brokers,  were  quietly  buying  up  all  the  stock 
that  was  being  offered,  to  "  peg  it  up,"  little  by  little, 
to  where  it  had  been.  The  mere  suspicion  made  him 
want  to  tear  them  limb  from  limb,— to  organize  a 
lynch ing-party,  after  the  fashion  of  the  Territory 
they  were  in,  and  get  revenge,  if  not  justice. 

It  was  rather  a  dismal  party  that  returned  to  New 
York  from  the  trip  over  the  E.  &  W.  The  president, 
fearing  indignant  Western  investors,  and  still  more 
the  newspaper  reporters,  whom  he  knew  would  lie  in 
wait  for  him  until  they  found  him,  quietly  aban- 
doned the  train  before  reaching  Chicago,  and  went 
Eastward  by  some  other  route.  A  few  of  the  more 
hardened  operators  began  to  encourage  each  other 
by  telling  of  other  breaks  that  had  been  the  making 
of  the  men  they  first  ruined,  but  they  dropped  their 
consoling  reminiscences  when  Marge  approached 
them ;  they  had  only  contempt  for  a  man  who  from 
his  manner  evidently  was  so  completely  *'  cleaned 
out"  as  to  be  unable  to  start  again,  even  in  a  small 
way.  The  majority,  however,  seemed  as  badly  off 
as  himself ;  some  of  them  were  so  depressed  that 
when  the  stock  of  cigars  provided  specially  for  the 
excursion  was  exhausted  they  actually  bought  com- 
mon pipes  and  tobacco  at  a  way  station,  and  indus- 
triously poisoned  the  innocent  air  for  hundreds  of 
miles. 

This,  then,  was  the  end  of  Marge's  dream  of 
wealth !  Occasionally,  in  other  days,  he  had  lost 
small  sums  in  Wall  Street,  but  only  he  and  his 
broker  knew  of  it ;  no  one  ever  knew  in  what  line 
of  stock  he  operated.    But  now— why,  had  not  his 


228  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

name  been  printed  again  and  again  among  those 
of  E.  &  W.'s  strongest  backers?  Every  one  would 
know  of  his  misfortune :  he  could  no  longer  pose  as 
a  shrewd  young  financier,  much  less  as  a  man  with 
as  large  an  income  as  he  had  time  to  enjoy. 

Would  that  he  had  not  been  so  conceited  and  care- 
less as  to  mentally  give  up  Lucia,  who  now,  for  some 
reason,  persisted  in  appearing  in  his  mind's  eye ! 
Had  he  given  half  as  much  attention  to  her  as  to 
E.  &  W.,  she  might  now  be  his,  and  their  wedding- 
cards  might  be  out.  And  iron  was  still  looking  up, 
too  !  How  could  any  one  not  a  lunatic  have  become 
so  devoted  to  chance  as  to  throw  away  a  certainty? 
for  she  had  been  a  certainty  for  him,  he  believed, 
had  he  chosen  to  realize.  Alas !  with  her,  as  with 
E.  &  W.,  he  had  been  too  slow  at  realizing. 


CHAPTER    XXVI. 

SOME  MINDS  BELIEVED. 

When  Tramlay  bade  good-by  to  his  new  partner  a 
few  moments  after  the  partnership  was  verbally 
formed  he  wondered  which  to  do  first,— return  to  the 
club  and  announce  his  good  fortune  to  the  several 
other  iron  men  who  were  members,  or  go  home  and 
relieve  the  mind  of  his  wife.  As  he  wondered,  he 
carelessly  remarked, — 

"Which  way  are  you  going,  Phil?" 

The  young  man,  who  was  already  starting  off  at  a 
rapid  pace,  returned,  and  said,  in  a  low  tone, — 

**  Can't  you  imagine?" 

The  older  man  took  his  partner's  hand,  and  seemed 
to  want  to  say  something. 

"What  is  it,  Mr.  Tramlay?"  asked  Phil,  for  the 
silence  was  somewhat  embarrassing. 

"  My  dear  fellow,"  said  the  merchant,  "  a  man  who 
has  just  given  away  his  daughter  is  usually  supposed 
to  have  done  a  great  favor." 

"As  you  certainly  have  done,"  Phil  replied. 

"Thank  you;  for  I  want  to  ask  one  in  return. 
Fathers  aren't  sole  proprietors  of  their  daughters,  you 
know.  Mrs.  Tramlay— when  you  speak  to  her  about 
the  affair,  as  of  course  you  will,  be  as— be  all— do  be 
your  most  considerate,  courteous  self,  won't  you?" 
20  229 


230  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"  I  beg  you  will  trust  me  for  that,"  said  Phil. 

"I'm  sure  I  can, — or  could,  if  you  understood 
mothers  as  well  as  some  day  you  may." 

"  I  have  a  mother,  you  know,"  suggested  Phil. 

*'True,  but  she  had  no  daughters,  I  believe? 
Mothers  and  daughters — well,  they're  not  exactly 
like  mothers  and  sons.  Mrs.  Tramlay  respects  you 
highly,  I  know,  but  she  may  not  have  seemed  as 
friendly  to  your  suit  as  you  could  have  liked.  Try 
to  forget  that,  won't  you  ?— and  forgive  it,  if  it  has 
made  you  uncomfortable?" 

**  I  would  forgive  a  bitter  enemy  to-night,  if  I  had 
one,"  said  the  excited  youth. 

"That's  right;  that's  right:  a  man  has  so  few 
chances  to  feel  that  way  that  he  ought  to  improve 
them  all.  You'll  even  be  patient,  should  it  be 
necessary?" 

"As  patient  as  Job,"  promised  Phil. 

"  Thank  you  !  God  bless  you  !"  said  the  merchant, 
wringing  Phil's  hand  and  turning  away.  Phil  again 
started.  The  merchant  walked  toward  the  club, 
stopped  after  taking  a  few  steps,  looked  in  the  di- 
rection Phil  had  taken,  drew  his  hat  down  over  his 
eyes,  hurried  to  his  house,  entered  the  basement  door, 
sneaked  up  the  back  stairway  as  if  he  were  a  thief, 
and  quietly  entered  his  own  room,  which,  to  his  great 
relief,  was  empty. 

Meanwhile,  Phil  had  reached  the  house  and  been 
admitted.  He  had  not  to  ask  for  Lucia,  for  he  heard 
through  the  open  door  of  the  parlor  some  piano- 
chords  which  he  knew  were  touched  only  by  her 
fingers.     Lucia  did  not  hear  him  enter,  and  as  he 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  231 

stopped  to  look  at  her  she  seemed  to  be  in  a  revery 
that  was  not  cheerful.  He  had  never  seen  her  looking 
go— so  plain,  he  would  have  said,  had  she  been  any  one 
else.  There  was  no  color  in  her  face,  and  her  cheeks 
seemed  thin  and  drawn.  An  involuntary  motion 
startled  her,  and  she  turned,  exclaiming, — 

"How  you  frightened  me  V 

"  I  wish  you  might  punish  me  in  some  way  for  it,'' 
said  Phil,  approaching  her. 

*'  It  was  so  late  that  I  did  not  imagine  any  one 
would  call,"  the  girl  explained. 

"  I  was  quite  busy  in  the  earlier  part  of  the  even- 
ing," said  Phil,  *'  and  I  needed  to  see  your  father." 

"  Business  is  horrid,"  said  Lucia.  '*  I  should  think 
men  would  attend  to  it  by  daylight.  Well,  I  believe 
papa  went  to  the  club." 

'*  Yes ;  I  found  him." 

"And,  as  usual,  he  sent  you  home  for  some  horrid 
papers  of  some  kind  ?"  1 

*'  No,  not  exactly,"  said  Phil.  How  uncomfortable 
it  is  to  have  a  dream  dispelled — even  a  day-dream ! 
All  along  the  way  to  the  house  he  had  imagined  just 
how  she  would  look ;  he  could  see  the  flush  of  her 
cheek  through  the  half-mile  of  darkness  that  he  had 
traversed,  his  path  had  seemed  illumined  by  the 
light  of  her  eyes,  yet  now  she  was  pallid,  and  her 
eyes  had  none  of  their  customary  lustre,  and  her 
mental  condition — it  did  not  seem  at  all  appropriate 
to  the  conversation  which  he  had  a  hundred  times 
imagined  and  upon  which  he  had  set  his  heart  that 
night.  Well,  he  would  be  patient:  "Faint  heart 
never  won  fair  lady." 


232  *  COUNTRY  LUCK, 

"Aren't  you  a  little  severe  on  your  father  for  his 
devotion  to  business?"  he  ventured  to  ask.  "Out  in 
the  country  we  have  an  old  saying,  '  Make  hay  while 
the  sun  shines.'  The  sun  never  shone  brighter  than 
now  in  the  iron-business." 

"Yes,  I  know,"  replied  Lucia,  wearily.  "It's 
always  something  for  business'  sake.  Yes,  we  have 
that  same  dreadful  saying  in  New  York." 

"But  it's  all  for  the  sake  of  women  that  men  are 
so  absorbed  in  business,"  argued  Phil.  "  What  would 
your  father  care  for  business,  if  it  weren't  for  his 
wife  and  charming  daugliters  and  younger  children  ? 
He  never  sees  iron,  I  imagine,  while  he  is  talking 
about  it,  nor  even  thinks  of  the  money,  for  its  own 
sake.  Greenbacks  and  gold  and  notes  and  bonds  all 
transform  themselves,  in  his  eyes,  I  suppose,  into 
dresses  and  cloaks  and  bonnets  and  opera-boxes  and 
trips  to  Europe,  and " 

"You  silly  fellow!"  said  Lucia,  with  the  first 
smile  upon  which  she  had  ventured  that  evening ; 
"  I  wonder  where  you  get  such  notions.  If  you  don't 
give  them  up  you  will  some  day  find  yourself  writing 
poetry,— something  about  the  transmutation  of  rail- 
road-iron into  gold.  Think  how  ridiculous  that 
would  seem !" 

"  But  when  iron  attempts  '  to  gild  refined  gold, — to 
paint  the  lily,'  "  said  Phil,  "  as  it  does  in  your  father's 
case,  why,  'twould  be  worth  dropping  into  poetry  to 
tell  of  at  least  one  instance  where  Shakespeare's  con- 
clusion was  wrong.  You  know  the  rest  of  the  quo- 
tation?" 

Yes,  evidently  Lucia  knew  it,  for  her  cheek  glowed 


COUA'TRV  LUCK.  233 

prettily  under  the  compliment,  which,  while  some- 
what awkward,  reached  its  mark  by  the  help  of 
Phil's  eyes.  As  for  Phil,  his  heart  began  to  be  itself 
again :  whose  heart  wouldn't,  he  asked  himself, 
under  the  consciousness  of  having  given  one  second 
of  pleasure  to  that  dear  girl  ? 

"  You  seem  to  be  in  a  sermonizing  mood  to-night," 
said  Lucia.  **  1  know  my  father  is  the  best  man  alive, 
and  I  supposed  you  Uked  him,— a  little  ;  but  I  can't 
imagine  what  should  have  impressed  you  so  strongly 
with  him  to-night." 

Phil  studied  the  toes  of  his  boots,  the  tints  of  the 
patternless  rug,  the  design  of  the  frescoed  ceiling. 
Lucia  watched  him  with  an  amused  face,  and  linally 
Siiid,  "Even  you  don't  seem  to  know." 

"I  know,"  said  Phil,  slowly,  "and  I'm  trying  to 
think  how  to  express  it  properly." 

Poor  fellow  !  how  he  did  despise  himself,  that  what 
he  had  hurried  there  to  say  would  not  come  to  his 
lips  properly  !  Such  a  story  had  seemed  easy  enough 
when  he  had  read,  in  books,  of  how  other  men  told 
it,— so  easy,  indeed,  that  he  liad  come  to  have  very 
little  patience  with  that  portion  of  novels.  Of  course 
he  could  not  tell  it  while  Lucia  was  laughing, — 
laughing  at  him,  too.  Perhaps  he  could  lead  conver- 
sation back  to  the  desired  tone;  but  no;  for  just  at 
that  instant  Margie  flew  into  the  room,  exclaiming, 
before  she  fairly  entered, — 

"Oh,  Lu,  isn't  it  awful?  I  just  went  across  the 
room  for  something,  and  my  dress  caught  the  table- 
cover,  and  over  went  an  inkstand  on  my  very,  veriest 

white Why,  Phil,  I  didn't  know  you  were  here." 

20* 


234  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

"I  wish  I  knew  what  would  take  ink-stains  from 
very,  veriest  white " 

"Oh,  so  do  I.  What  shall  I  do,  Lu?  Do  tell  me 
at  once." 

'*  Perhaps,"  suggested  Phil,  with  a  gleam  of  hope 
for  Margie  and  several  for  himself,  "your  laundress 
can  tell." 

'  *  The  very  thing, ' '  said  Margie.  *  *  What  a  blessing 
you  are !  I  wish  you  were  always  here."  Then  she 
flew  out  of  the  room,  but  not  until  she  had  flung  a 
meaning  look  at  her  sister  and  another  at  Phil.  Both 
blushed,  and  Phil  felt  uncomfortable,  but  as  he  stole 
a  look  at  Lucia  he  mentally  blessed  Margie,  for  Lucia 
was  no  longer  laughing,  and  she  was  looking  unusu- 
ally pretty ;  her  eyes,  slightly  downcast,  seemed  a 
more  heavenly  blue  than  ever. 

"  The  reason  I  have  your  father's  goodness  on  my 
mind  to-night,"  said  Phil,  breaking  the  silence  to 
abate  the  awkwardness  of  the  situation,  "  is  because 
to-night  he  has  made  me  his  partner  in  business, — 
his  own  equal." 

"Oh,  Phil !"  exclaimed  Lucia,  her  whole  face  sud- 
denly aglow  and  her  eyes  looking  full  into  his.  "I'm 
so  glad — so  glad  for  you — for  him,  I  mean  ;  for  both 

of  you.    What  I  meant  to  say  was Oh,  how  did 

it  happen  ?" 

"  Oh,  I  chanced  to  get  an  order  which  he  was  kind 
enough  to  think  the  greatest  stroke  of  business  that 
any  firm  has  made  this  season.  So  he  asked  me  my 
price,  and  while  I  was  wondering  what  to  say  he 
made  me  the  offer." 

"Just  like  his  dear,  noble  heart,"  said  Lucia. 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  235 

"Yes,"  said  Phil,  rising,  and  pacing  to  and  fro  in 
front  of  the  piano,  and  fixing  his  eyes  on  the  floor ; 
**  and  all  the  nobler  it  seemed  on  account  of  the 
sordid,  grasping  way  in  which  I  took  it.  I  wasn't 
satisrted  witli  that,  but  wanted  more.  I  hope  he'll 
never  have  cause  to  think  unkindly  of  me  for  it." 

"More?"  said  Lucia,  wonderingly,  and  somewhat 
soberly.  "  What  more  could  you  want  than  to  be 
a  prominent  merchant?" 

"As  we  say  in  the  country,  guess,"  said  Phil,  ap- 
proaching the  piano-stool  and  opening  his  arms. 

Lucia  guessed. 

What  a  deal  he  had  to  say  t-o  her,  while  still  they 
stood  there !  He  knew  it  was  not  polite  to  keep  a 
lady  standing,  but  while  he  was  supporting  her  so 
strongly,  though  tenderly,  it  did  not  seem  that  Lucia 
would  weary  of  the  position  ;  nor  did  she.  And  what 
a  lot  of  questions  each  asked  and  answered  !— ques- 
tions and  answers  that  would  seem  as  silly  to  any 
one  else  as  they  were  interesting  to  those  they  con- 
cerned. Perhaps  there  came  occasional  moments 
when  neither  was  speaking,  but  during  these  Phil 
could  look  down  at  the  golden  tangle  just  about  at 
the  level  of  his  lips,  and  think  how  much  more 
precious  it  was  than  all  the  gold  that  railroad-iron 
could  be  changed  into  by  the  alchemy  of  endeavor. 

How  long  they  might  have  stood  there,  if  undis- 
turbed, they  never  knew,  for  they  were  so  heedless 
of  all  that  might  be  going  on  about  them  that  they 
did  not  note  the  entrance  of  Margie,  who  was  return- 
ing from  an  interview  with  the  laundress  in  the 
basement.    That  young  lady  was  quick  to  discern 


236  COUNTRY  LVCK. 

the  situation,  and  was  about  to  depart  quietly  and 
with  celerity  ;  but,  acting  upon  the  promptinga  of 
her  second  thoughts,  she  returned,  threw  her  arms 
around  the  couple,  and  exclaimed, — 

"  Oh,  isn't  this  splendid  !" 

There  was  a  rapid  separation  of  the  trio,  and  then 
Margie  attempted  to  whirl  Lucia  about  the  room  in 
a  waltz,  that  being  the  younger  sister's  most  natural 
method  of  expressing  joy.  But,  somehow,  Lucia  did 
not  feel  like  waltzing  ;  on  the  contrary,  she  kissed  her 
sister  several  times,  hid  her  own  face  a  great  deal, 
and  finally  made  a  great  effort  to  be  calm  as  she 
pointed  at  Phil  and  said,  with  a  sprightly  toss  of  her 
head, — 

**  Papa's  partner.  Tramlay  and  Hayn  is  to  be  the 
sign  over  the  store  hereafter." 

Margie's  eyes  opened  in  amazement  for  a  moment ; 
then  it  was  Phil's  turn  to  be  whirled  about  the  room, — 
an  operation  in  which  he  displayed  the  astounding 
awkwardness  peculiar  to  young  men  who  cannot 
dance.    Suddenly  she  paused,  and  said, — 

"Mamma  must  know  at  once.  The  idea  of  there 
being  some  one  within  reach  to  tell  it  to,  and  I 
wasting  all  this  time  !" 

** Margie!"  exclaimed  Lucia,  as  the  girl's  dress 
rustled  up  the  stair,  "  Margie,  come  back  a  moment, — 
do."  Then  there  was  some  rapid  whispering,  and 
Margie  re-ascended,  saying,  in  very  resigned  tones, — 

''Very  well." 

"  I  suspect,"  said  Phil,  when  Lucia  returned,  "  that 
you've  suggested  that  I  am  the  proper  person  to  break 
the  news." 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  237 

"  'Isn't  it  better?"  asked  Lucia,  timidly. 

^'.Infinitely." 

'*  Mamma  is  not  always  easy  to  speak  to,  on  some 
subjects,"  Lucia  suggested. 

*'  No  task  could  be  hard  to  me  to-night,"  responded 
Phil. 

Yet  in  a  moment  or  two,  when  Mrs.  Tramlay  was 
heard  approaching,  the  young  man's  looks  belied  his 
brave  words.  Lucia  pitied  him ;  she  pressed  closely 
to  his  side,  as  if  to  assist  him,  but  when  her  mother's 
footstep  was  heard  in  the  hall  the  girl's  courage  de- 
serted her,  and  she  fled,  and  left  the  young  man  to 
whatever  fate  might  be  impending. 

"  Margie  tells  me  you  have  some  great  news,"  said 
Mrs.  Tramlay  to  Phil. 

"  Bless  Margie  !"  said  Phil  to  himself;  then,  instead 
of  at  once  addressing  himself  to  the  duty  before  him, 
he  gave  Mrs.  Tramlay  as  full  a  report  of  the  rise, 
progress,  and  result  of  the  Lake  and  Gulfside  opera- 
tion as  if  she,  instead  of  her  husband,  were  the  head 
of  the  iron-house. 

"And  you  have  told  Mr.  Tramlay,  I  think  you 
said,"  the  lady  remarked. 

"Yes;  I  looked  him  out  at  the  club,  for  the  pur- 
pose." 

"He  was  pleased,  of  course?" 

"  Greatly,  I  am  happy  to  say." 

Mrs.  Tramlay  looked  thoughtful.  "Phil  was  puzzled 
by  her  manner.  Did  she  know  or  care  so  little  about 
business  as  not  to  estimate  at  its  true  value  the  im- 
portance of  the  Lake  and  Gulfside  order  ?  Slie  was 
so  calm  about  it  that  Phil  himself  began  to  think  less 


238  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

than  before  of  his  success.  He  even  wondered  whether 
it  would  be  worth  while  to  tell  her  of  the  worldly 
fortune  the  operation  had  brought  to  him.  Probably 
she  was  one  of  the  large  class  of  women,  of  whom 
he  had  heard,  who  have  no  heads  for  business. 

*'  Did  Mr.  Tramlay  say  anything  in  reply?"  asked 
the  lady,  after  a  moment  or  two  of  thought. 

**  Why,  yes,"  said  Phil,  with  some  hesitation,  for  he 
wondered  if,  after  all,  it  might  not  be  better  that 
Tramlay  himself  should  tell  the  story  of  his  clerk's 
promotion.  Mrs.  Tramlay  eyed  him  keenly;  then 
she  asked, — 

"Did  he  say  anything  concerning  your  future, — 
and  ours  also,  as  related  to  it?" 

"Yes,"  said  Phil,  now  satisfied  that  Tramlay's 
offer  had  been  premeditated,  and  not  made  in  the 
excitement  of  the  moment;  "and,"  he  continued, 
with  his  best  smile  and  bow,  "  I  am  happy  to  assure 
you  that  I  was  simply  delighted  to  agree  with  him." 

"  My  dear  son  !"  exclaimed  Mrs.  Tramlay. 

Phil's  astonishment  reached  almost  the  stage  of 
petrifaction,  but  before  he  could  betray  it  his  pros- 
pective mother-in-law  had  depressed  his  head  so 
that  she  might  kiss  him  on  both  cheeks. 

Such  a  prayer  of  thanksgiving  as  Phil's  heart  sent 
up  as  he  returned  Mrs.  Tramlay's  salutation  !  Mean- 
while, two  young  women  who  had  been  flagrantly 
transgressing  one  of  the  most  imperative  rules  of 
their  breeding  flew  at  each  other  from  the  two  doors 
that  opened  from  the  hall  into  the  parlor:  at  last 
Margie  had  found  some  one  who  was  both  able  and 
willing  to  be  waltzed  madly  about.    They  were  even 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  239 

reckless  enough  to  float  into  the  parlor,  right  before 
their  mother's  eyes.  Then  Mrs.  Tramlay,  conscious 
for  the  first  time  that  her  eyes  were  wet,  flew  to  the 
seclusion  of  her  own  room,  where,  to  her  great  sur- 
prise, she  fell  into  the  arms  of  her  husband. 


CHAPTER   XXVII. 

AMONG  THE  BUINS. 

Mr.  Marge  reached  New  York  with  only  the  dis- 
tinct impression  that  he  would  like  at  once  to  turn 
his  single  bit  of  real  estate  into  cash,  shake  the  dust 
of  the  city  from  his  feet  forever,  and  begin  life  and 
business  anew  at  some  place  where  he  was  not 
known,  and  where  the  disgrace — as  it  seemed  to 
him — of  his  altered  fortunes  would  be  unknown  to 
any  one.  There  was  his  interest  in  the  Haynton 
Bay  property,  to  be  sure,  but  he  cursed  the  day  he 
had  ever  put  nearly  two  thousand  dollars  into  prop- 
erty which  at  best  would  not  be  likely  to  return  any 
amount  of  cash  for  years  to  come.  He  might  sell 
that  also;  but  who  would  buy  it?  Nobody  knew 
much  about  it  but  the  other  owners ;  of  these,  two 
were  Tramlay  and  Phil,  to  neither  of  whom  would 
he  admit  that  he  needed  money :  he  would  rather 
lose  all  he  had  invested.  As  for  Agnes  Dinon,  who 
held  most  of  the  remaining  shares,  he  could  not 
make  a  business-offer  to  a  woman  who  had  refused 
his  hand  and  heart  several  years  before. 

Perhaps  his  broker  had  saved  something  for  him 

from  the  wreck.    Marge  sought  an  obscure  hotel 

instead  of  going  to  his  apartments  or  his  club,  and, 

fearing  even  to  meet  any  one  he  knew  on  Wall  Street, 

240 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  241 

went  to  his  broker's  house  by  night.  The  interview- 
was  not  satisfactory:  the  broker  had  not  only  been 
obhged  to  close  Marge's  account,  but,  infected  by  his 
customer's  success,  had  operated  so  largely  in  E.  & 
W.  on  his  own  account  that  he  also  had  been  ruined, 
and  contemplated  selling  his  seat  in  the  Exchange 
so  as  to  make  good  some  of  his  indebtedness  to  mem- 
bers. 

As  for  E.  <fc  W.,  instead  of  recovering  it  had  gone 
lower  and  lower,  until  operations  in  it  almost  ceased. 
The  president,  utterly  ruined,  retired  ftom  office, 
turned  over  all  his  property  to  his  creditors,  and 
went  abroad  to  recover  his  shattered  health  or  to 
die,  he  did  not  much  care  which. 

Marge  sold  his  house  at  auction,  and,  while 
wearily  awaiting  the  circumlocution  of  "searching 
title"  which  necessarily  preceded  his  getting  full 
payment,  he  betook  himself  to  Boston.  To  avoid 
speculation  was  impossible,  it  had  been  his  life  for 
years  ;  and,  as  he  found  mining-shares  were  within 
his  reach,  he  began  again  to  operate,  in  a  small  way. 
The  little  he  had  seen  of  mines  while  on  the  fate- 
ful E.  &  W.  excursion  was  so  much  more  than  the 
majority  of  those  about  him  knew  on  the  subject  that 
he  made  a  few  lucky  turns,  and  he  finally  interested 
some  acquaintances  in  a  promising  silver  property 
he  had  seen  in  the  West.  His  acquaintances  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  the  property  **  listed"  at  one  of  the 
New  York  exchanges,  and  Marge,  with  new  hopes 
and  a  great  deal  of  desperation,  risked  nearly  all  he 
liad  on  the  Brighthope  mine. 

The  scheme  worked  finely  for  some  weeks.  It  waa 
L        7  21 


242  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

skilfully  managed  by  the  Bostonians  interested ;  they 
even  succeeded  in  getting  a  great  deal  about  it  into 
the  newspapers  of  both  cities.  But — alas  for  the 
wickedness  of  human  nature  ! — one  day  the  company 
were  horrified  to  learn  that  their  title  to  the  property 
was  hopelessly  defective.  When  this  fact  became  in- 
disputable, Brighthope  stock  tumbled  farther  than 
E.  &  W., — tumbled  utterly  out  of  sight ;  and  all  the 
assets  of  the  company,  except  the  safe  and  two 
desks,  were  sold  to  a  paper-stock  dealer  at  a  cent  a 
pound. 

Then  Marge  thought  seriously  of  suicide.  He  had 
but  a  thousand  or  two  dollars  left:  how  could  he 
operate  in  anything  on  that  small  sum  and  support 
himself  besides?  He  could  add  something  to  the 
sum  by  selling  his  horses  and  carriage,  but  such 
things  always  had  to  go  at  a  sacrifice  ;  besides,  there 
would  be  a  terrible  bill  to  be  paid  for  the  mainte- 
nance of  the  animals  during  the  two  or  three  months 
in  which  he  had  been  absent  from  New  York. 

Still,  the  thought  of  suicide  did  not  imjirove  on 
acquaintance.  While  there  was  life  there  was  hope. 
Why  shouldn't  he  go  back  to  New  York,  brave  every- 
thing, and  start  anew  to  the  best  of  his  ability? 
Other  men  had  pocketed  their  pride ;  and,  although 
his  own  pride  was  frightfully  large  to  be  submitted 
to  such  treatment,  he  did  not  know  that  the  opera- 
tion would  give  him  any  more  discomfort  than  he 
was  already  enduring. 

The  thought  resolved  itself  into  decision  when  one 
day  he  chanced  to  meet  in  Boston  a  New  Yorker 
with  whom  he  had  a  casual  acquaintance.    After  a 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  243 

little  chat  the  man,  who  had  been  away  from  the 
city  for  months,  remarked, — 

"You're  not  married  yet?" 

"  No,"  said  Marge,  with  a  grim  smile. 

**  I  thought  I  had  heard  that  you  were  engaged  to 
Miss  Tramlay ;  and  I  wanted  to  congratulate  you. 
An  iron-house  traveller  whom  I  met  a  short  time  ago 
told  me  that  Tramlay  was  getting  rich  very  fast." 

"  I  supposed,"  said  Marge,  with  a  dawn  of  interest, 
**  that  Miss  Tramlay  was  to  marry  young  Hayn." 

"What !  that  country  clerk  of  her  father's?"  said 
the  man,  with  the  confidence  born  of  ignorance. 
*'  Nonsense  !  why,  it  seems  only  the  other  day  that  I 
heard  some  one  laughing  about  that  fellow's  infatua- 
tion. Oh,  no ;  now  that  they're  rich,  they'll  want  to 
marry  their  daughter  to  some  one  of  social  standing : 
indeed,  I  heard  some  one  say  as  much.  The  mother 
is  very  ambitious  in  that  line,  you  know." 

Marge  soon  excused  himself,  lit  a  strong  cigar,  and 
betook  himself  to  a  solitary  walk  and  some  hard 
thinking.  There  was  perhaps  a  grand  point  to  be 
made  on  that  fellow's  suggestion.  From  what  he 
knew  of  Mrs.  Tramlay, — and  he  informed  himself 
that  no  one  knew  that  lady  better,— he  would  not  be 
surprised  if  an  approved  society  man  might  now  be 
entirely  welcome  as  a  husband  for  Lucia,  even  if  he 
were  as  poor  as  a  church  mouse.  And  Lucia  herself — 
had  she  not  always  longed  for  larger  and  more  promi- 
nent society  than  she  had  yet  enjoyed? 

Before  his  cigar  was  burned  out.  Marge  had  bought 
a  ticket  for  New  York,  determined  to  make  a  bold 
stroke  for  fortune  where  he  felt  that  he  had  at  heart 


244  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

one  faithful  friend  to  aid  him.  His  imagination  and 
pride  combined  to  cheer  him  on  ;  he  would  reappear 
at  Tramlay's,  see  how  the  land  lay,  and  if  the  signs 
were  encouraging  he  would  propose  at  once,  first 
taking  Mrs.  Tramlay  into  his  confidence.  He  had 
lost  enough  by  hesitation  ;  now  he  would  adopt  en- 
tirely new  tactics,  and  there  was  no  pleasanter  way 
to  begin  than  by  proposing  to  Lucia.  As  he  had  told 
himself  before,  she  was  a  very  pretty  girl,  and  fully 
competent,  with  such  guidance  as  he  would  give  her, 
to  make  the  most  of  her  new  advantages. 

Reaching  New  York  at  nightfall,  he  lost  no  time 
In  dressing  with  extreme  care  and  making  his  way 
to  the  Tramlay  abode.  He  would  have  no  diflSculty 
in  explaining  his  long  absence  to  the  ladies ;  perhaps 
they  had  heard  of  his  disaster  in  E.  &  W.,  but  he 
could  tell  them  that  he  had  been  largely  interested 
in  a  rich  silver-mine  ever  since.  There  would  be 
nothing  untrue  in  that  statement ;  had  he  not  been 
so  deeply  interested  that  he  could  not  sleep  a  wink 
during  the  week  while  the  title  to  the  Brighthope 
mine — curse  the  rocky  hole !— was  first  in  doubt? 
Besides,  women  were  sure  to  talk,  and  equally  sure 
not  to  diminish  the  size  of  a  story  while  telling  it : 
quite  likely  his  tale,  repeated  by  Mrs.  Tramlay  and 
Lucia,  might  have  the  eflect  of  restoring  him  to  the 
regard  of  the  many  people  who  estimate  a  man  solely 
by  his  money. 

As  he  entered  the  house  he  was  satisfied  that  his 
operations  would  not  be  postponed  by  the  announce- 
ment "not  at  home,"  for  through  the  open  door  he 
heard  familiar  voices  in  the  rear  of  the  parlor,  and  he 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  245 

saw  several  heads  bent  over  a  table.  None  of  them 
seemed  to  belong  to  strangers :  so  he  entered  with 
the  freedom  to  which  long  acquaintance  entitled 
him.  The  backs  of  the  entire  party  were  towards 
him,  80  his  presence  was  not  observed :  besides,  an 
animated  discussion  seemed  to  be  going  on  between 
Lucia  and  Margie. 

"I  thinli  you're  real  mean,"  he  heard  Margie  say. 
Then  he  heard  Lucia  reply,— 

"No,  I'm  not.    Am  I,  mamma?" 

"No,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  as  Marge  approached 
close  enough  to  see  that  they  were  looking  at  the 
floor-plan  of  a  house,  sx^read  upon  the  table. 

"My  heart  is  set  upon  having  that  room  for  my 
very  own,"  said  Margie.  "The  young  lady  of  the 
family  always  has  first  choice,  after  her  parents." 

"Not  where  there  is  a  bride  to  be  provided  for," 
Mrs.  Tramlay  replied. 

"  Well  said,  mamma.  There,  Margie,"  said  Lucia ; 
"  that  room  is  for  Phil  and  me." 

"Here,"  said  Tramlay,  entering  from  the  library, 
with  a  large  sheet  of  paper  in  his  hand,  "is  the  plan 

of Why,  Marge  I— bless  my  soul ! — when  did  you 

get  back,  old  fellow?" 

"  Mr.  Marge  !"  exclaimed  the  three  ladies  in  chorus, 
as  they  hastily  arose. 

"What!  only  just  come  in?"  asked  Tramlay. 
'*  And  of  course  there  was  such  a  clatter  here,  there 
being  three  women  together,  that  nobody  could  hear 
a  word." 

Apparently  the  ladies  did  not  agree  with  the  head 
of  the  family,  for  Mrs.  Tramlay  looked  at  the  visitor 
21* 


246  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

pityingly  and  Lucia  dropped  her  eyes  and  blushed. 
But  Margie  was  equal  to  the  situation :  her  eyes 
danced  as  she  exclaimed, — 

"Just  in  time  to  see  the  plans  of  the  villa  we're  to 
have  at  Haynton  Bay.  See  ?  This  is  the  principal 
chamber  floor ;  it  fronts  that  way,  toward  the  water, 
and  I've  just  been  cheated  out  of  the  darlingest  room 
of  all :  it's  been  set  apart  as  sacred  to  the  bride  and 
groom.  As  if  the  silly  things  would  care  to  look  at 
water  or  anything  else  but  each  other  !'^ 

"It  will  be  as  handsome  a  house  as  there  is  on  the 
coast,"  said  Tramlay,  *'  though  your  humble  servant 
will  be  its  owner.  Say,  old  fellow,  you  need  New 
York  air :  you  don't  look  as  well  as  usual." 

"A  long  day  of  travel, — that  is  all,"  said  Marge, 
with  a  feeble  smile  that  seemed  reluctant  to  respond 
to  the  demand  imposed  upon  it. 

Mrs.  Tramlay  rang  for  a  servant,  and  whispered, — 

"  A  glass  of  wine  for  Mr.  Marge." 

"Haynton  Bay  is  booming,"  remarked  Tramlay. 
"  Save  you  heard  any  particulars  recently?" 

"None  at  all,"  drawled  Marge:  "I  have  been  so 

busy  that Thank  you,  Mrs.  Tramlay,"  he  said, 

with  a  nod  and  a  glance,  as  the  wine  appeared. 

"We're  doing  capitally,"  said  Tramlay.  "  It  begins 
to  look  as  if,  in  spite  of  all  the  extra  land  on  which 
old  Hayn  bought  us  options,  there  won't  be  enough 
Bites  to  meet  the  demand." 

The  news  and  the  wine — both  were  needed— raised 
Marge's  spirits  so  that  he  ceased  to  fear  he  would 
faint.  He  finally  collected  wits  and  strength  enough 
to  say,— 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  247 

"  It's  just  the  time  for  me  to  sell  out,  then?" 

"Sell  out?"  echoed  Tramlay.  "It's  just  the  time 
to  hold  on  to  it.  I  don't  know  of  anything,  anywhere, 
that's  making  a  respectable  fraction  of  tlie  profit  that 
there  is  in  our  little  company,  when  the  smallness  of 
the  investment  is  considered.  I  believe,  too,  we  could 
make  twice  as  much  if  there  was  some  one  who  knew 
buyers  well  enough  to  charge  appropriate  prices. 
We've  been  selling  at  set  figures,  regardless  of  what 
some  people  might  be  persuaded  to  pay ;  prices  of 
such  property  may  as  well  be  fancy,  you  know,  for 
those  who  want  it  will  have  it  at  any  price.  But 
we've  nobody  to  give  proper  attention  to  it :  Phil's 
time  is  so  fully  occupied " 

"  On  account  of "  interpolated  Margie,  pinching 

her  sister's  arm. 

"Margie  !"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  severely. 

"  He  is  so  very  busy "  resumed  Tramlay. 

"  Being  papa's  partner,"  said  Margie.  "  Have  you 
seen  the  new  sign '  Tramlay  and  Hay n '  yet  ?  Lu  goes 
down  town  every  day  in  our  carriage,  and  I  don't 

believe  it's  for  anything  but  to  look  at  that  sign 

Oh,  mamma,  you  hurt  me  cruelly  then." 

"Well,"  said  Tramlay,  "if  I  may  be  permitted  to 
finish  a  sentence,  I'd  like  to  say  that  if  you've  an 
hour  or  two  a  day  of  spare  time  on  your  hands  you 
could  do  a  first-rate  thing  for  the  company,  as  well 
as  yourself,  by  Iceeping  an  eye  on  this  property. 
There's  so  much  in  it  that  I've  had  half  a  mind  to 
devote  myself  to  it  and  leave  Phil  to  attend  to  iron  ; 
there's " 

"For  Phil  can  do  it,"  said  Margie.    "You  must 


248  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

have  heard  of  his  great  Lake  and  Gulfside  order : 
everybody  said  it  was  the  greatest " 

"  Margie,"  said  Mrs.  Tramlay,  in  ill-disguised  anger, 
"go  to  your  room,  at  once.  Your  father  shall  be  al- 
lowed to  talk  without  interruption." 

"  Thank  you,  my  dear,"  said  Tramlay.  *'  As  I  was 
saying.  Marge,  there's  no  easier  way  to  make  that 
property  bring  twice  as  much  money  than  for  you, 
with  your  knowledge  of  who  is  who  in  New  York,  to 
give  some  personal  attention  to  it." 

"Thanks  for  the  suggestion,"  said  Marge.  "I'll 
think  about  it.  At  present,  however,  I  think  I'll  say 
good-by  and  seek  some  rest.  I  merely  dropped  in  for 
a  moment,  to  pay  my  respects." 

"  Lu,"  shouted  Margie  from  the  head  of  the  stairs, 
as  Marge  was  donning  his  light  overcoat  in  the  hall, 
"don't  let  Mr.  Marge  go  until  you  show  him  that 
cunning  little  lovers'-nook  on  the  plan  of  the  house- 
front." 

Mrs.  Tramlay  hurried  to  the  hall  and  pressed 
Marge's  hand :  he  looked  down  an  instant,  whispered, 
"Thank you,"  and  departed. 


CHAPTER   XXVIII. 

"AND  e'en  the  fates  WERE  SMILING." 

"  Well,  Lou  Ann,"  said  farmer  Hayn  one  morning 
when  the  month  of  May  had  reached  that  stage  when 
farmers  forget  their  coats  except  on  Sundays,  "it'll 
seem  'most  like  takin'  boarders  again  to  have  such  a 
big  crowd  of  city  folks  in  the  house,  won't  it?" 

"Not  quite  as  bad  as  that,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn,  care- 
fully moving  an  iron  over  one  of  the  caps  which  she 
reserved  for  grand  occasions.  "Only  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Tramlay  an'  the  two  gals." 

"Well,  you  ortn't  to  forget  that  Phil  is  city  folks 

now,  an I  declare  to  gracious,  I  believe  I  forgot 

to  tell  you  that  Miss  Dinon, — that  splendid  gal  I  told 
you  about,  that  owns  a  lot  of  stock  in  the  company, 
— Phil's  writ  tliat  like  enough  she'll  come  down  too. 
She  an'  her  mother  want  to  pick  a  lot  for  a  house 
for  themselves  before  it's  too  late  for  much  of  a 
choice." 

"Well,  I  can't  understand  it  yet,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn, 
carefully  picking  the  lace  edging  of  the  cap  into  the 
proper  neglige  effect.  "  It  seems  Uke  a  dream.  Here's 
me,  that's  sometimes  been  almost  a-dyin'  to  get  away 
from  this  farm  an'  into  the  city,  an'  there's  a  whole 
passel  of  city  folks  goin'  to  leave  their  palaces  in  New 
York  an'  come  down  here  to  live  on  little  pieces  of 

249 


250  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

our  farm  an'  otlier  farms  along  the  ridge.  I  tell  you, 
I  can't  understand  it." 

"Well,"  said  the  farmer,  picking  some  bits  of  oat 
chaff  from  his  shirt-sleeve,  "it  ain't  always  easy  to 
understand  city  folks  at  first  sight.  Now,  there's 
that  feller  Marge.  When  I  fust  saw  him  in  New 
York  I  wouldn't  have  give  him  his  salt  for  any  work 
he'd  do  in  the  country.  Yet  now  look  at  him  !  Them 
roads  an'  drives  through  the  company's  property 
wouldn't  have  been  half  so  near  done  if  he  hadn't 
come  down  here  an'  took  hold  to  hurry  things  along 
for  the  spring  trade.  Why,  some  of  them  fellers 
that's  doin'  the  work  has  worked  for  me  on  the  farm, 
off  an'  on,  for  years,  an'  I  thought  I  knowed  how  to 
get  as  much  out  of  'em  as  ther'  was  in  'em ;  but, 
bless  your  soul,  he  manages  'em  a  good  deal  better." 

"They  do  say  he's  a  master-hand  at  managin'," 
Mrs.  Hayn  admitted,  "an'  that  it's  partly  because 
he  takes  right  hold  himself,  instead  of  standin'  round 
bossin',  like  most  city  men." 

"Takes  hold?  Why,  he  works  as  if  he'd  been 
brought  up  at  it,  which  I'm  certain  sure  he  never 
was.  You  can't  see  the  fun  of  it,  because  you  never 
saw  him  in  New  York.  Why,  if  you  could  have 
seen  him  there  you'd  have  thought  that  a  gate-post 
with  two  pegs  in  the  bottom  of  it  would  have  had  as 
much  go  as  him.  I've  reelly  took  a  likin'  to  him. 
More'n  once  I've  let  him  know  that  I  wouldn't  mind 
if  he'd  leave  the  hotel  in  the  village  an'  put  up  with 
us,  but  somehow  he  didn't  seem  to  take  to  it." 

"That's  strange,  ain't  it?"  said  Mrs.  Hayn,  with 
a  quizzical  look  that  made  her  husband  stare. 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  251 

"Oh  !"  said  the  old  man,  after  a  little  reflection. 

"You're  growin'  dretful  old  an'  short-sighted, 
Reuben,"  said  Mrs.  Hayn;  and  the  farmer  made 
haste  to  change  the  subject  of  conversation. 

A  day  or  two  later  the  party  from  the  city  arrived, 
and  great  was  the  excitement  in  the  village.  Sol 
Mantring's  wife,  who  had  learned  of  what  was  ex- 
pected, made  a  trip  to  Hayn  Farm  daily  on  one  pre- 
text or  other,  reaching  there  always  just  before  the 
time  of  the  arrival  of  the  train  from  the  city,  received 
the  deserved  reward  of  her  industry,  and  before  sun- 
set of  the  day  on  which  the  party  arrived  everybody 
in  the  village  knew  that  when  Lucia  stepped  from 
the  carriage,  at  the  farm-house  door,  Mrs.  Hayn 
caught  her  in  her  arms  and  almost  hugged  the  life 
out  of  her.  Everybody  knew,  also,  that  the  party  was 
to  be  there  for  only  twenty-four  hours. 

"The  shortness  of  the  time  at  their  disposal  was 
probably  the  reason  that  Phil  and  Lucia  disappeared 
almost  immediately  after  the  meal  which  quickly 
followed  their  arrival.  They  went  to  the  lily-pond  ; 
there  were  no  lilies  yet  upon  the  water,  but  the 
couple  did  not  notice  their  absence ;  they  could  see 
them  just  where  they  should  be,— just  where  they 
were,  ten  months  before.  They  got  again  into  the 
old  birch- bark  canoe ;  it  was  not  as  clean  as  it  should 
have  been  for  the  sake  of  Lucia's  expensive  travel- 
ling-dress, for  the  small  boys  of  the  Hayn  family  had 
not  taken  as  good  care  of  it  as  Phil  would  do,  but 
Phil  made  a  cushion  of  leaves,  which  Lucia  slowly 
expanded  into  a  couch,  as  she  half  reclined  while 
she  identified  the  scenes  which  her  farmer-boy  guide 


252  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

and  boatman  had  shown  her  the  summer  before.  Phil 
thought  her  expression  augeUc  as  she  dreamily  gazed 
about  her ;  yet  when  her  eyes  reverted  to  him,  as  they 
frequently  did,  he  informed  himself  that  there  were 
even  gradations  of  angelic  expression. 

They  even  rode  in  the  old  beach-wagon  ;  the  ocean 
was  still  as  cold  as  winter ;  bathing  was  out  of  the 
question;  but  Phil  had  a  persistent  fancy  for  re- 
minding his  sweetheart  of  every  change  there  had 
been  in  their  relations,  and  in  himself;  and  Lucia 
understood  him. 

"It's  dreadfully  mean  of  those  two  to  go  off  by 
themselves,  and  not  help  us  have  any  fun,"  com- 
plained Margie  to  Agnes  Dinon,  when  the  latter 
returned  from  a  stroll  with  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Tramlay, 
during  which  she  had  selected  a  satisfactory  cottage- 
site.  "Let's  have  a  run.  I  know  every  foot  of  this 
country.  Do  you  see  that  clump  of  dwarfed  cedars  off 
yonder  on  the  ridge,  with  the  sky  for  a  background? 
They're  lovely :  I've  tried  again  and  again  to  sketch 
them.    Come  over  and  look  at  them." 

Away  the  couple  plodded.  As  they  approached  the 
clump  they  saw  that  a  road  had  been  partly  sunk  in 
front  of  it ;  and  as  they  drew  nearer  they  saw  a  man 
sodding  a  terrace  which  sloped  from  the  ridge  to  the 
road. 

"That's  not  right,"  said  another  man,  who  was 
looking  on.  "That  sod  must  be  laid  more  securely, 
or  the  first  rain  will  wash  it  away.  I'll  show  you 
how  to  do  it.    See  here." 

"Agnes  Dinon  !' '  exclaimed  Margie,  in  a  tone  which 
suggested  that  a  mouse,  or  at  least  a  snake,  was  in 


COUNTRY  LUCK,  263 

close  proximity.  " Do  you  hear  that  voice?— do  you 
see  that  man?  Do  you  know  who  he  is?  That  is 
the  elegant  Mr.  Marge." 

Miss  Dinon  manifested  surprise,  but  she  quickly 
whispered, — 

"  Sh-h-h  !  Yes,  I  knew  he  was  here,  looking  after 
the  company's  interests.  He  is  one  of  the  directors, 
you  know." 

"  Yes,  I  know ;  but  see  his  hat  and  his  clothes,— 
and  his  brown  hands.  This  is  simply  killing !  Oh, 
if  I  had  crayons  and  paper,  or,  better  still,  a  camera  I 
The  girls  at  home  won't  believe  me  when  I  tell  them : 
tliey'll  think  it  too  utterly  preposterous." 

"Why  should  you  tell  them?"  asked  Agnes,  turn- 
ing away.  *'  Isn't  it  entirely  honorable  for  a  man  to 
be  caring  for  his  own  and  fulfilling  his  trust,  espe- 
cially when  so  valuable  a  property  as  this  is  demands 
his  attention?" 

"  Yes,  yes,  you  dear  old  thing ;  but " 

"'Sh-h!"  whispered  Agnes,  for  just  then  Marge 
climbed  the  slope  and  appeared  a  little  way  in  front 
of  them,  shouting  back  at  the  man, — 

"  Cut  your  next  sod  here :  this  seems  to  have  thicker 
grass." 

Suddenly  he  saw  the  ladies  and  recognized  them. 
It  was  too  late  to  run,  as  he  assuredly  would  have 
done  if  warned  in  time,  but  he  had  the  presence  of 
mind  to  shout  to  his  workman, — 

•♦No,  it  isn't,  either.  Oei  the  next  from  the  old 
place !" 

"Good-morning,   Mr.  Marge,"  said  Miss  Dinon, 
with  a  frank  smile  and  an  outstretched  hand. 
22 


254  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Marge  raised  his  hat,  bowed,  and  replied,— 

**The  hand  of  the  laboring-man  is  sometimes  best 
shaken  in  spirit.  I  assure  you,  though,  I  appreciate 
the  compliment." 

*'  Then  don't  deny  me  the  honor,"  said  Miss  Dinon. 
"  It's  a  positive  pleasure  to  see  a  man  doing  some- 
thing manly.  It  is  my  misfortune  that  I  see  men 
only  in  the  city,  you  know,  and  doing  nothing." 

Her  hand  was  still  extended,  so  Marge  took  it, 
again  raising  his  hat.  Margie  turned  away;  the 
situation  was  so  comical  to  her  that  she  felt  she 
must  laugh,  and  she  knew  by  experience  that  her 
laughter  was  sometimes  uncontrollable  when  fairly 
started. 

*'Mr.  Tramlay  says  you've  worked  wonders  since 
you've  been  here,"  said  Miss  Dinon,  as  Marge  released 
her  hand ;  "  and,  as  old  Mr.  Hayn  is  his  authority,  I 
have  no  doubt  it  is  so." 

".I  imagine  that  I  deserve  the  company's  thanks," 
Marge  replied,  "though  I'm  astonished  at  having 
mastered  some  portions  of  the  work  so  quickly.  I 
think  I  can  astonish  you,  also,  by  an  honest  confes- 
sion :  I  really  wish  something  of  this  sort  had  turned 
up  years  ago ;  I'm  a  great  deal  happier  at  it  than  I 
ever  was  while  worrying  my  wits  over  stocks  in  Wall 
Street.  I  think  the  work  far  more  honorable  and 
manly,  too.  You're  quite  at  liberty  to  repeat  this  to 
any  of  our  mutual  friends  in  the  city  :  I'm  sure  'twill 
amuse  them,  and  their  laughter  won't  annoy  me  a 
particle." 

"  They  wouldn't  laugh,"  said  Miss  Dinon,  "  if  they 
could  breathe  this  glorious  air  awhile,  and  foresee  the 
c 


COUNTRY  LUCK.  265 

gold  which  this  ground  will  yield,  unless  appearances 
are  deceitful." 

The  old  beach-wagon,  a  quarter  of  a  mile  away, 
crawled  up  the  grassy  slope  from  the  long  stretch  of 
sand,  and  Phil  stopped,  as  of  old,  to  let  the  horse 
breathe  after  his  hard  tug  at  the  deep-sinking  wheels. 

"  What  a  picture  those  two  people  make  on  the  hill 
yonder,  beside  that  green  clump  !"  said  Lucia.  "  Why, 
the  woman  Is  Agnes, — there  is  Margie,  picking  daisies 
far  to  the  right, — and  the  man  Agnes  is  talking  to  is 
some  common  workman.  What  a  splendid  woman 
she  is  !  She  can  be  as  independent  as  she  likes,  and 
no  one  ever  mistakes  her  meaning.  Imagine  any 
other  girl  of  our  set  standing  on  a  country  hill-side, 
chatting  with  some  boor  !" 

"Boor?"  echoed  Phil,  running  a  whole  gamut  of 
intonations.  **Do  you  know  who  that  boor  is?  I 
recognized  him  at  sight :  he  was  in  the  village  as  we 
passed  through,  but  it  didn't  seem  kind  to  call  atten- 
tion to  him." 

"Who  is  he?    Do  tell  me." 

"Mr.  Marge." 

"Philip  Hayn  !"  exclaimed  Lucia.  "Do  turn  the 
wagon  away,  so  we  don't  seem  to  be  looking  at  them." 

"Consistency,  thy  name  is  not  woman,"  said  Phil, 
after  complying  with  the  request,  for  Lucia  was 
kneeling  on  the  back  seat  of  the  wagon  and  peering 
through  the  little  window  in  the  dingy  old  curtain. 

"Not  to  revive  any  unpleasant  memories,"  said 
Marge,  after  he  and  Miss  Dinon  had  chatted  several 
moments,  as  co-investors,  about  the  property,  "but 
merely  to  call  attention  to  the  irony  of  fate,  it  seems 


256  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

odd  to  me  to  contrast  to-day  and  a  certain  day  several 
years  ago.  Laugh  about  it,  I  beg  of  you,  because  I 
call  attention  to  it  only  for  its  laughable  side.  To-day 
you  do  me  the  honor — which  I  never  shall  forget — of 
pressing  your  hand  upon  me,  although  no  stranger 
could  distinguish  me  from  one  of  my  workmen. 
Then,  when  in  a  different  sense  I  wanted  your  hand, 
and  had  the  temerity  to  think  myself  worthy  of  it, 
you  withheld  it." 

Miss  Dinon  did  not  laugh ;  she  looked  off  toward 
the  sea,  and  said, — 
**  You  were  not  then  as  you  are  to-day." 
"  Thank  you.    But  if  I  had  been  ?" 
Again  Miss  Dinon  looked  toward  the  sea,  and 
said,— 

"  I  might  perhaps  have  been  more  appreciative." 
"  And  to-day,"  said  Marge,  gently  taking  the  lady's 
finger-tips,— "  no,  not  to-day,  but  hereafter,  is  it  im- 
possible that  I  should  honestly  earn  it?" 
**  Who  knows,"  said  Agnes,  gently,  "but  you?" 
"Phil!"  gasped  Lucia,  from  the  back  of  the  old 
beach-wagon,  "  he  is  kissing  her  hand  !" 
"  Umph  !"  said  Phil :  "  what  can  that  mean  ?" 
Lucia  looked  at  him  soberly,  and  replied, — 
"  What  a  question  for  you,  of  all  men,  to  ask !" 
"  Why,  'tis  only  an  old-fashioned  form  of  salutation 
or  adieu,"  said  Phil,  "  I  have  your  own  word  for  it : 
don't  you  remember?" 

For  answer,  Lucia's  eyes  looked  from  beneath  their 
lashes  so  provokingly  that  Phil  stepped  across  his 
seat  and  hid  each  under  his  moustache  for  a  second 
or  two. 


CHAPTER    XXIX. 

so  THEY  WERE  MARRIED. 

As  Mrs.  Tramlay  remarked  at  an  earlier  stage  of 
this  narrative,  June  was  as  late  in  the  season  as  was 
fashionable  for  a  wedding.  Thanks,  however,  to  a 
large  infusion  of  the  unexpected  into  the  plans  of 
all  concerned,  Lucia's  wedding  did  not  have  to  be 
deferred  until  after  June.  All  the  invited  guests 
pronounced  it  as  pretty  an  aflfair  of  its  kind  as  the 
season  had  known,  and  the  more  so  because  the 
bride  and  groom  really  made  a  very  handsome  and 
noteworthy  couple,— an  occurrence  quite  as  unusual 
in  the  city  as  in  the  country. 

The  only  complaints  that  any  one  heard  were  from 
Haynton  and  vicinity.  The  friends  and  acquaint- 
ances of  the  Hayn  family  held  many  informal  meet- 
ings and  voted  it  an  outrage  that  when  such  a  lot  of 
money  was  to  be  spent  on  a  wedding  it  should  all  be 
squandered  on  New  York  people,  who  had  so  much 
of  similar  blessings  that  they  did  not  know  how  to 
appreciate  them,  instead  of  Haynton,  where  the 
couple  would  sooner  or  later  make  their  home ;  for 
had  not  Phil  selected  a  villarsite  for  himself,  on  his 
father's  old  farm  ? 

No  invitations  by  card  reached  Haynton,  but  Phil's 
r  22*  267 


258  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

pastor  went  down  quietly  to  the  city  to  assist  at  the 
marriage-service,  by  special  arrangement,  and  Hayn 
Farm  of  course  sent  a  large  delegation,  and  the  head 
of  the  family  saw  to  it  that  none  of  the  masculine 
members  wore  garments  of  the  Sarah  Tweege  cut 
longer  than  was  required  to  make  a  thorough  change 
at  a  reputable  clothing-store.  As  for  Mrs.  Hayn,  her 
prospective  daughter  found  time  enough  to  assume 
filial  duties  in  advance,  and  the  old  lady  was  so 
pleased  with  the  change  that  ever  afterward  she  was 
what  the  late  lamented  Mr.  BoflQn  would  have 
termed  *' a  high-flyer  at  fashion." 

But  there  are  souls  who  laugh  to  scorn  any  such 
trifling  obstructions  as  lack  of  formal  invitation,  and 
one  of  these  was  Sol  Mantring's  wife.  She  tormented 
her  husband  until  that  skipper  found  something  that 
would  enable  him  to  pay  the  expense  of  running  his 
sloop  to  New  York  and  back ;  his  wife  sailed  with 
him  as  sole  passenger,  and  on  the  morning  of  the 
wedding  she  presented  herself  at  the  church  an 
hour  before  the  appointed  time,  and  in  raiment  such 
as  had  not  been  seen  in  that  portion  of  New  York 
since  the  days  when  sullen  brownstone  fronts  began 
to  disfigure  farms  that  had  been  picturesque  and 
smiling.  She  laid  siege  to  the  sexton  ;  she  told  him 
who  she  was,  and  how  she  had  held  Phil  in  her  arms 
again  and  again  when  he  had  the  whooping-cough, 
and  yet  again  when  he  had  scarlet  fever,  although  she 
ran  the  risk  of  taking  the  dread  malady  home  to  her 
own  children,  and  the  sexton,  in  self-defence,  was 
finally  obliged  to  give  her  a  seat  in  the  gallery,  over  the 
rail  of  which,  as  near  the  altar  as  possible,  her  elabo- 


\ 


COUNTRY  LUCK. 

rately-trimmed  Sunday  bonnet  caught  the  eyes  of 
every  one  who  entered.  What  all  Haynton  did  not 
know  about  that  wedding,  three  days  later,  was  not 
worth  knowing  i  it  was  a  thousand  times  more  satis- 
factory than  the  combined  reports  in  the  morning 
papers,  all  of  which  Mrs.  Mantring  carried  home  with 
her  and  preserved  between  the  leaves  of  her  family 
Bible  for  the  remainder  of  her  days,  and  every  one 
in  the  village  read  them,  even  Sarah  Tweege,  who 
magnanimously  waived  the  apparent  slight  implied 
by  Pliil  not  having  his  wedding-suit  made  by  her. 

Mrs.  Hayn,  Senior,  no  longer  had  to  wish  in  vain 
for  a  place  in  the  city  where  she  might  sometimes 
forget  the  cares  and  humdrum  of  farm-house  life. 
Risky  as  the  experiment  seemed  from  the  society 
point  of  view,  Lucia,  backed  by  Margie,  insisted 
upon  making  her  at  home  in  the  city  whenever  she 
chose  to  come ;  and,  although  some  friends  of  the 
family  would  sometimes  laugh  in  private  over  the 
old  lady's  peculiarities  of  accent  and  grammar,  there 
were  others  who  found  real  pleasure  in  the  shrewd 
sense  and  great  heart  that  had  been  developed  by  a 
life  in  which  the  wife  had  been  obliged  to  be  the 
partner  and  equal  of  her  husband. 

Before  a  year  passed  there  was  another  wedding. 
Agnes  Dinon  changed  her  name  without  any  mis- 
givings ;  she  had  previously  confessed  to  Lucia,  who 
in  spite  of  the  difference  in  years  seemed  to  become 
her  favorite  confidante,  that  she  had  always  admired 
some  things  about  Mr.  Marge,  and  that  the  busincas- 
misfortunes  which  had  compelled  him  to  become  the 
active  manager  of  the  Haynton  Bay  Improvement 


260  COUNTRY  LUCK. 

Company  seemed  to  supply  what  had  been  lacking 
in  his  character  and  manner. 

Other  people  who  were  no  longer  young  were 
gainers  by  the  culmination  of  the  incidents  narrated 
in  this  tale.  Tramlay  and  his  wife  seemed  to  renew 
their  youth  under  the  influence  of  the  new  love  that 
pervaded  their  home,  and  almost  daily  the  merchant 
blessed  his  partner  for  gains  more  precious  than  those 
of  business.  He  never  wearied  of  rallying  his  wife 
on  her  early  apprehensions  regarding  the  acquaint- 
ance between  her  daughter  and  the  young  man  from 
the  country.  Mrs.  Tramlay's  invariable  reply  was 
the  question, — 

"But  who  could  have  foreseen  it?  I  can't,  to  this 
day,  understand  how  it  all  came  about." 

"  Nor  I,"  her  husband  would  reply.  ''As  I've  said 
before,  it's  country  luck.  Nine  men  of  every  ten  who 
amount  to  anything  in  New  York  come  from  the 
country.  Eemember  it,  my  dear,  when  next  you 
have  a  daughter  who  you  think  needs  a  husband." 


THE  END, 


f 


T 


f 


YB    /405^? 


i;S12005 


THE  UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  UBRARY 


S^?''^'.p???|iiiflS 


